Mistaken Observations
by EdenParadise
Summary: Damon just had to be the kind of guy who actually liked when he was caught in the act of being 'almost' naked. And pretty soon...It was going to be the death of her. Elena just didn't count on the marking located on Damon's hip to jumble up her thoughts.
1. Flash Me, Darling

_A/N: I just want to say that this is only a one-shot...I think. I barely have time to stay focused on a long story, so I thought of this. It is loosely based on when Damon struts his naked self in front of Elena in the season 3 premiere. Thank God for the over confident male race…And vampires…Always the vampires._

_._

_Summary:__ Damon just had to be the kind of guy who actually liked when he was caught in the act of being 'almost' naked. And pretty soon…it was going to be the death of her. Elena just didn't count on the little marking located on Damon's hip to have her thoughts become a jumbled up mess. _

_._

_._

Mistaken Observations: Flash Me, Darling

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Well, who did she think she was trying to kid, anyway? There wasn't anyone to convince anymore, wasn't anyone to blame but herself. The guilt and pain still lingered there, warping a painful seed into her mind, and maybe she thought that being alone with Damon, teaming up with Damon, wouldn't have any effect on her. Why would it? He wasn't the right male vampire for her, for anyone, really, but she would never tell him that. The one she really wanted was off on a real screwed up drinking binge, busy being corrupted by the lesser lowlife species she forced herself not to think of in her spare time.

And yet, it didn't take that long, maybe a month or so, before she got the real gist of what it felt like to betray the one you loved, or thought you loved, and felt the full frontal meaning behind the words, 'sin' and 'smolder.'

It started out fine. Well, as fine and dandy as they could both muster, anyway. They didn't talk about _that night_, the one where he almost…died, and she didn't see the need to. Let him read into it as he wanted. Maybe the old Elena would have wanted to talk it out, much to his obvious distaste, and try to tell him that it was an action that spontaneously burst out under the circumstances; a spur of the moments act, and a knee-jerk reaction to say the least. But if she was going to be fairly honest with herself this time around, she knew that she couldn't muster up the energy to hurt his ego anymore.

So, she was going to let him think about it himself. She almost shuddered at the thought of him reading into it a little too much. She didn't want him to jump her bones out of nowhere or really touch her anywhere for that matter. But if he came to her and said he wanted to talk about it, detoxing the pent up emotions, then she would be more than happy to oblige. Starting a conversation Damon didn't even want to have in the first place and having it almost always end up with one or the other feelings wounded was just too exhausting. If Damon started the talking then he hopefully wouldn't end up yelling in her face and causing a new bout of white hot fury to bubble up in the pit of her stomach.

They really were, in all senses of the word, too dangerous to be around each other. It was like throwing a gallon of gasoline on a fire to put it out and then calling it good, walking away even though the problem was still clearly there.

She really had to stop making analogies about her and Damon. They were starting to suffocate her, and she could have sworn she could have written a book about all the things she compared them to. But that was only if she was really bored. Well, she did live in Mystic Falls, so the time may never even come when there would be a day when there wasn't something life threatening to do. The way things were going, she would never be bored again.

In the first few days of being left alone with each other, they were both perfectly fine. They both got up in the morning, separate beds of course, ate breakfast, well, one of them did, and they both tried to do anything in their power to find a lead on where Stefan was. But they both agreed after a while that if Klause did not want to be found…then he would _not_ be found. It was as frustratingly simple as that. Elena still refused to give up though. And it had surprised her when Damon agreed, continuing to talk and bargain with Bonnie to do anything she could to help the both of them. And since Elena wanted Bonnie's help, that is what she got.

It seemed that their easy feeling and willingness to work with each other was short lived, cut after about a week of living in the same huge house together. All Elena had wanted was to tell Damon that Alaric had called. And Elena knew that the only friends Damon had where she and Ric, so she agreed on the phone that Damon would call him back. She quickly decided that going into Damon's room in the first place was a very, _very_ bad idea.

Elena curled deeper into the sheets of her bed, remembering just exactly what had happened that day to make it so awkward. The memoirs burned into her mind.

.

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"_Yeah, Ric. I will definitely tell him that you called." Elena smiled into the receiver. She really did like Alaric and all that he had done for her and Jeremy. Even when he had lost Jenna. Even when all of them had lost Jenna. And in the presence of Jeremy, Alaric had made sure not to be too negative about anything. The kid really did not need any more doom and gloom in his life. Elena easily thought Ric as an uncle. _

"_Yup," she smiled, grimly this time, "I'll make sure to let you know when we hear any more news. Alright, Ric. Bye." She slammed the phone back on the receiver a little more forcefully than was necessary. Just when she was thinking all those nice things about Alaric, he had to go and mention Stefan. She almost considered not telling Damon that he had called, but what good would that do? She was the bigger person in this situation._

_Damon had not come down from his room that morning, which was easily a rare occurrence. He was always the first one up. He didn't need that much sleep in the first place. _

_Weird._

_Frowning, she turned the corner and slowly made her way up one of the many staircases of the boarding house. If you did not easily know this house the way she did, then you were guaranteed to get lost. It was like a labyrinth. And even now she had some trouble finding Damon's room, even though it was right across from Stefan's. _

_When she did enter his room, pushing his door open, she knew that was her first major mistake of the day. _

_Damon was there, alright. But he was not sleeping like she thought he would be. Nope. He was getting undressed. And clad only in his underwear, which he was in the act of pulling off, the waistband of the fabric dangerously low on his hips to the point where they weren't even really on his hips, he made quite a sight. Especially when his hair was sticking in all directions like that and his cheeks were flushed from the blood he probably had just recently consumed. _

_Before she could turn around and run out of the room like she had intended to, Damon had pulled his only scrap of clothing on him back on his waist. But not before she caught the black marking that was placed near his pelvic bone, under the hard indentation there. When he put the Boxers back on, it had covered it up. She then realized that were the design was located, was in a place that was indeed considered 'private.' She had not actually seen…that male…organ, but it was so dangerously close to the real thing that she couldn't resist the urge to flush. _

_She looked back up at Damon's face. His eyes were wide and painfully blue, a startling contrast to his dark tousled hair. His full lips were open in an astounded expression. She had obviously caught him off guard. Yeah, she knew how he felt. _

"_Wow, you really don't knock, do you?" Damon turned his back to her and put on a pair of blue jeans, sliding them over his slim legs. He put on no shirt, of course. He just had to jump at the opportunity to make her even more uncomfortable…If that was even possible. _

"_Sorry," she flushed, "I guess I'm just used to my house. I never really learned to knock on doors."_

_Raised dark eyebrows and a tantalizing smirk was her only response in return. But then after a while, he opened his mouth, the tips of his perfectly white and straight teeth visible. "Was there something you wanted? You intruded my striptease and I need to take a shower."_

_Elena squinted her eyes, glaring at him with brown eyes and a stubborn set in her mouth. "Alaric called. He wanted to talk to you. I thought you were sleeping."_

"_Nope," he popped the 'p.' "Just trying to be hygienic."_

"_Oh." Smartest response of the year._

_Before she could stop it, her eyes wandered back down again. She wasn't trying to be sexual, she swore, but she would have liked to know what that mark on his skin was. A bruise? No, vampires couldn't get those. A birthmark, maybe? Nope. The only visible marks on Damon's indestructible body were the light scar through his left eyebrow from when he was human and then the other scar on the inside of his thigh. _

_Damon was six when he accidently ran into a man who held a carving knife in his hand. The skin under his brow had split open. And when Damon's neighbor's dog got loose when he was 15, it took a nasty chunk out of his upper thigh. Elena had asked about the scar on his face when she saw it one day, but the scar on his leg she had discovered only a couple weeks ago when Damon was, yet again, parading out in his underwear. _

"_It must have hurt," she remembered saying to Damon when she was told the story._

_Damon had grimaced at her. "It did. He hit my Femoral Artery. I almost didn't live."_

_And then she remembered asking why there wasn't a scar from where he had gotten shot in 1864. Damon had said that because his wounds from when he was a kid had already scared over before he turned, the transformation from human to vampire had not affected them. Since the wound from the shot had not healed over before turning, the transformation just cleared it up. He never said anything about it afterward, but Elena thought that Damon was grateful he couldn't see the gunshot wound over his heart. Why would you want to be reminded of the moment your father killed you and ultimately turned you into a vampire?_

_So if it wasn't a scar, bruise, or a birthmark, then what exactly was it? And why did this bother her so much? She really should have just walked away to let him take his shower in peace. Actually, she really should have just knocked in the first place. No, Alaric should have just never called. Great, now she was blaming her personal predicaments on other people? So much for being the bigger person today. _

_Because her staring at his…lower region was probably becoming obvious, she ripped her eyes away and met Damon's cobalt ones. He was staring at her intently, looking a smidge to amused for her own personal liking. _

"_And just what do you think you're looking at down there?" His tone implied that he knew exactly what she was thinking about. Only she wasn't thinking about it in that way. She was curious. Not about anything inappropriate of his, but about the suspicious marking on his…Okay, so maybe it was inappropriate. She really had not seen that much of his body before and she was cursing herself for even walking up those stairs. Why did she have to be stuck with Damon of all people? Why couldn't he be ugly and fat and totally unappealing in every way possible? It would have been so much easier to work with this man if he was physically repulsive._

_And even though the words he spoke had more of an effect on her than she would have liked, she still had the dignity to plop down on his bed, much like he used to do to her bed, and roll her eyes. Acting indifferent and like she owned this bedroom seemed like a good way to go._

"_Don't flatter yourself, Damon. I was just thinking."_

_This only seemed to add fuel to his already raging fire. She could see it in his eyes. "Kinky. About what, may I ask?"_

_Elena narrowed her eyes and pointed an almost accusing finger in his direction. "About that mark near your…hip." Okay, so it really wasn't on his hip. But she wasn't going to say 'about that mark near your penis.' This whole thing was crude enough._

_Damon looked down at himself, scrunching up his eyebrows and wrinkling his admirably cute nose. He looked at her after a second and shrugged, seemingly oblivious to what she was getting at. "Yeah, not really seeing any mark."_

_She looked at him. Honestly? He was going to play this game with her?_

_Damon moved to the window nonchalantly, wincing when the sun hit his sensitive eyes. The hard muscles of his back seemed to bunch and tense up, making him look rigid and uncomfortable. _

"_Well," Elena squirmed on the ginormous bed, "I guess it's not really on your hip…Just near it. You…can't really – You can't really see it with clothes on…I think." She had extreme difficulty getting those two sentences out._

_Throwing his head over his shoulder, Damon grinned at her with a predatory look on his face. "So, you've been spying on my now? Hey, no complaints here. It's a free show."_

_Elena scoffed, picking at one of the loose threads on his sheets. "That was probably the most disgusting thing I've heard from you all year. And you do say a lot of disgusting things."_

_Damon shrugged once again, his collar bone protruding momentarily and the hollow in his throat deepening, with an amused expression gracing his features. He pulled his head back and looked down, his hand suddenly working on the leather of his belt. _

"_Whoa," Elena shot up in a sitting position on the bed, one hand extended as if it would stop whatever the hell he was doing. "What exactly do you think you're trying to-" Elena was cut off once again as he turned around to face her head on. _

_Damon had undone the belt and buttons of his pants so that they were sitting loosely on his waist. His thumb had lightly pulled the waistband of his underwear away from his side and tugged it downward some more. And if Elena thought that the first time she saw the marking was provocative, then this was a whole other ball park. This time, it was a lot less modest and more eye burning. She really didn't fancy being flashed this morning. _

"_You mean this?" _

_Elena forced her eyes back over to his lower body. The mark was there and so was a lot more skin than there was the first time. Thank the Lord that at least some of the fabric was still covering him. Actually, she was surprised he didn't just go commando everywhere. _

"_Have you no shame?" Elena tried to look stern, but in the end she couldn't help but laugh. He was just like a little boy, parading around naked like he was five and not a fully endorsed grown man. It reminded her of Jeremy and when she used to give him bathes when he was little. He was not ashamed because he was little and little minds…and little body parts had nothing to be ashamed about. It isn't like there's something to see when a little kid was naked. But, then she also recollected the time she accidently walked in on Jeremy taking a shower when he was 14. This time there _was_ something to see and he was not amused at all. Please, it wasn't like hadn't grown up with him or anything. _

"_No. No really."_

_She managed to contain a blush when she looked over at Damon this time. Why was she being such a prude anyway? She had seen naked men before. Well, actually she had only seen two. Matt and Stefan. Okay, nasty. She did not want to think about Stefan naked when she was staring at his older brother. Maybe it was the fact that living with an attractive man and noticing him every day and then seeing him almost naked were two completely different stories. _

_Quieting her noisy thoughts seemed impossible, so she focused on his hip. It looked like a…tattoo? Yup, most definitely a tattoo. It was long, black and spindly, intricate, and seemingly masculine at the same time. It just looked like some ancient pattern that she couldn't quite put her finger on. The design trailed further into his underwear and she was immediately relieved that he still had some modesty and didn't want to show her the full thing. If she wanted to see anymore, then the underwear would have to come off. And who knew where a tattoo that big would expand to... _

"_Your brother has a tattoo on his arm." She deadpanned. _

_Damon snapped the boxers back into place and zipped up his jeans. "What's your point? Lots of people have tattoos, 'Lena. "_

"_But he has one on his arm…Not his crotch."_

_Damon looked at her for a second as she relaxed back into his bed, this was too much excitement for one morning, and then he did something she never expected. He laughed, deep and way too charming for his own good. It made her want to laugh, even if she didn't what they were laughing at. Oh God, was he laughing at her?_

_Elena's expression twisted up and then she glared at him._

_Damon got one look at her expression and the laughing ceased. "Sorry," he coughed, " I just never thought I would hear those words leave your mouth."_

"_Yeah, well I never thought you would get a tattoo on your balls, so…" she shrugged at him. Between the way he was so completely unashamed of walking around almost naked, the way he attracted women to him like moths to a flame, and his willingness to get a tattoo where no sane, non-sex crazed person would, he was like an original male prostitute. Maybe he was… _

"_People do crazy things sometimes, Elena." His eyes steeled over and his mouth hardened, traces of amusement vacant from his expression. "You know that better than anyone."_

_Elena looked down at her feet and frowned. Maybe this was her cue to leave. "I'm just gonna let you take your shower now." She said this mostly to the ground than to him, and she climbed off the bed and walked over to the door._

_Before she could even get her hand on the door knob, Damon had called out to her. She looked over her shoulder. _

"_If you ever want to see the rest of the tattoo…then you know where I am."_

_Grimacing, Elena left the room._

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Elena was ashamed to admit that she had that memory detailed down to every second. She remembered every part, every moment, and every glimpse of white, alabaster skin that was shown…Whether it was intentional or not. But she had already guessed that Damon wouldn't have minded in the first place if she wanted to see that racy tattoo. Damon was just one of those types of people.

Vicki Donovan had been like that towards Jeremy when they were younger. And even though Vicki was almost three years older than Jeremy, she still found it right in some part of her ever scheming mind to flash her body at him, when she swore no one was looking. It was weird and frankly a bit disturbing. Jeremy didn't seem to mind though. He was all for the attention. But coming from Damon, this really should have been expected. He was just…Damon. And to him that sounded like a valid enough reason to share his body with the willing…er, the unwilling. She was still a little bit cloudy on that part.

When the warmth started to seep slowly into Stefen's room- she now lived alone with Damon while Jeremy stayed with Bonnie- and the heated sheets started to tangle uncomfortably around her exposed legs, she made her way slowly out of the bed, plopping her feet sharply against the achingly cold floor.

When she made her way downstairs, shivering all the while, she found Damon to be sitting nonchalantly at the dining room table. He looked like the epitome of an average man, save for the cup of blood that was placed near his elbow, while he read the paper and absently tapped his fingers against his knee cap.

He seemed to be doing a lot of that nowadays, fidgeting until she herself had to tell him to calm down and take a couple deep breathes. Mostly, she just tried to ignore it.

"Any new leads?" she asked.

Damon saved her the humiliation of pretending to not understand what she was talking about.

"No. Nothing. It's like they have completely dropped off the face of this earth." The tapping on his knee increased to an agitated state. "It sure would be nice if they at least didn't clean something up for once."

_But then what would be the fun in that, _she thought bitterly. After all, Klause just seemed to be doing this because it _was _fun…to him.

She grabbed a white cup from the pantry up above and looked at it carefully, before setting it gently down again. She didn't feel like she could stomach anything at this moment.

"Do you ever think that-" she stopped short, afraid of what his reaction would be.

"Ever think what?" There was inquisitiveness in his voice, silently begging her to tell him what was going on in that pretty little mind of hers.

He wanted to know her, he wanted to _understand_.

She coughed lightly. "Do you ever think that maybe-" she had to stop again, catching her breath. "Maybe Stefan doesn't want to see us again. Maybe he likes going back to old habits. Maybe he _likes _Klause…"

Damon had thought of all this just a few nights ago. And he didn't doubt that any of this could be very much possible. But if he did know one thing, it was that Stefan was always having a silent battle between his head and his heart. Damon would have bet his whole liquor supply and his car on Stefan really wanting to come home, while his mind…and Klause…told him 'no.' Ever conflicted, just like Elena would be ever damned. Sad little story to tell after years, if you asked him.

But no one ever asked him, so…

Damon was silent for some more moments, just the sound of her raised breathing and his knee-tapping visible to the ear, until he broke the trance with a loud scoff.

"He's my brother, Elena. I can bet you anything in this world that he just wants to be home with you right now."

Those seemed to be the magic words because Elena broke into a wide smile, and Damon just outright cursed himself.

Why was he getting her hopes up? If Klause didn't want Stefan out from his clutches, then he would never be a free man again. The sooner Elena accepted that, the sooner they could move on from this sad little story of the girl who had two vamp brothers safely perched on her shoulders.

The sooner she moved on…the sooner she could accept that maybe Damon was the right one for her.

Elena must have seen the falter in Damon's happy façade because her smile slowly faded, too. She knew as well as he did, that Stefan did not have a say in this anymore. He was practically playing a video game, but he wasn't the one controlling it.

_Jeremy would have liked that reference, _Elena thought bitterly. Whenever she thought of her brother, and all that he had been through over his short 16 years, she got strangely misty eyed.

She looked away from Damon, trying to hide her red rims and the water threatening to leak from her tear-ducts. She was stronger than this. She was ballsy enough to stab herself just to kill some bad-ass Original vampire, and yet she couldn't think of her brother without going on a crying jib? What would Damon really think of her, when he realized she wasn't as brave as she pretended she was?

And more importantly, why did even matter what Damon thought of her? He was just an acquaintance. He was just her boyfriend's brother. He was _just _an insanely attractive male.

Come to think of it, she hadn't had sex in a _really _long time. She could always just blame it on the hormones. But what was Damon's excuse?

Oh, right. It was just Damon. He didn't need an excuse. He _was _the excuse.

"That tattoo," Damon cut into her thoughts like a sharp-edged knife, "It was the pattern of my mother's dress when she died."

Elena stopped fidgeting with her cup, and slowly turned to look at him. "How come you didn't tell me that before?"

"Why?" he lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "I didn't think it was useful information. Why would it matter what you thought?"

Elena tried to ignore that blow, and placed a small hand over her heart. "Why would it matter? Gee, I don't know. Maybe because this whole time I thought you just got it to show off your goods to some emo chick in fishnet stockings and no underwear.

"Really?" Damon gave her a quizzical look. "Do you really think that highly of me?"

The answer was clear on Elena's face. Yes. Yes, she did.

Damon sighed, a long suffering sound coming from years of experience and a lot of boredom. "Elena, the tattoo was done by a man. So get your mind out of the gutter."

"But why there? Why not get it where someone would be able to see it?"

He smiled suddenly. "Oh, don't worry. _Plenty_ of people see it, Elena. All they have to do is ask."

Elena couldn't help but smile. It was such a typical Damon thing to say.

"Why the change of topic?" she asked. "I wasn't done brooding about Stefan."

"Yeah, but I was. I just thought a sexier conversation was in order. At least you know you will have something to remember me by." He looked at her from the corner of his very blue eyes. They glinted with laughter.

She looked down at the floor, nudging along an imaginary dust bunny with her slender floor. "I honestly don't think I would be able to forget someone like you, Damon. My memory might not be as good as yours, but it's not that bad."

Damon seemed to like this response. He got up from his chair with the grace of some wild, foreign animal, and grinned down at her.

"Good to know that you like me so much, 'Lena."

Elena smiled sweetly back over to him, pushing herself off the countertop, and make her way to face Damon.

His smirk wavered when she patted his denim covered hip right where the tattoo was located, looked up at him with big eyes, and whispered into his ear:

"And if you ever want to see my tattoo, then you know where I am."

This time, Elena left the room with a self-satisfied air around her.

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_A/N: Reviews are love, people. All responses are greatly welcomed!_


	2. We Just Might Have Something In Common

_A/N: One upon a time, there was a girl who loved writing FanFiction, and was amazed out how many people seemed to like her random thoughts that come from nowhere. So, instead of just doing a one-shot like she originally planned, she thought that she would just continue you it and see where it goes from there. But she would also like you to know that she is also writing many other stories, and this story might not have such frequent updates. Wow…I am such a dork…_

_Mistaken Observations: We Just Might Have Something In Common_

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_._

Elena hadn't realized it at the time, but when she decided to tell Damon about her little tattoo- the microscopic portrait of Piglet from _Winnie The Pooh_ on the very small of her back- she had started a silent, raging war.

If the tattoo was anywhere else, well, maybe not _anywhere_ else, she would have been happy to oblige, and just show Damon the damned thing. After all, he had shown her his little wicked marking, and it would have been only polite to return the favor.

But the tattoo was placed just so on her back that it mischievously dipped into the back of her jeans. And why she wanted a picture of Piglet on her butt was completely beyond her. In her defense, she was 99.9% sure that she was drunk during the time. She never really remembered ever getting one. And _that_ was a little scary.

It made her feel like she was almost…comparable to Damon. And in case she wasn't clear on it before, it was not a decent thing to welcome.

When Damon had told her about the history behind his tattoo, it caused her to be mad, sad, happy, and a little dumbfounded all at the same time.

She was mad because it seemed like he was using something so dear to him- his mother's dress pattern she died in- just for another way to attract women. She was sad because, even though he was Damon, she still thought it was nice for him to get something to remember her by. She didn't really know why she was happy- she wasn't going to dwell on it too much- but it probably fell along the lines of Damon showing his softer side.

And she was dumbfounded because Damon really seemed to screw with her mind sometimes. He made her feel one thing, and then another emotion seemed to quickly follow. She couldn't be content without being agitated, and she couldn't be somber without wanting to burst from the joy in the pit of her stomach.

This also meant that she couldn't feel hate…without love.

She basically just had a bad case of being severely conflicted.

And it was here- sitting on the very edge of his bed _and _her sanity, and waiting for Damon to get out of the shower- where she felt every single sensation of hate, love, passion, disgust, and even a hint of lust.

It was here where she decided it was time to get some answers. She was putting her foot down right at this very moment.

The door knob before her jiggled and swung open. Damon didn't seem to notice her at first, he was too busy adjusting the dark towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist, but when he did take notice of her, he simply stopped in his tracks.

"You really do like catching me in a state of undress, don't you?" He smiled, winked at her, and then made his way over to the dark brown door of his closet.

It wasn't like Elena was purposely trying to catch Damon in all his glory. The odds were against her, and it just seemed that every time she had something to say to him…he just popped up half naked.

Maybe he had planned this…

She sighed. She just wanted to be done with this. "Cut the crap, Damon. I want answers."

Damon turned to her, looking casually over his shoulder. The water drops made a slow path down his back. "When don't you, little Miss. Fast-And-Furious?"

This made her narrow her eyes even harder. "What's your angle, Damon? What are you trying to play at?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

God, she now knew it was no coincidence that his name closely resembled 'demon.'

"I'm talking about how one minute you are all on board with the 'Let's save Stefan!' train, and then the next minute you turn around and act like you don't give a shit. Don't you want your brother back?"

There was no audible response from Damon. He only shook his dark head gradually, not even turning to look at her.

"Don't have the balls to say anything anymore? Well, there's no surprise there."

There were little sirens going off in her head, telling her to shut the hell up before he kicked her sorry ass out the door.

This time, when he did turn to her, there was a frosty appearance about his face, as if all the made up heat had suddenly left. There was no 'Damon Charm' left in his eyes. His mouth was pulled down around the edges, creating an oddly heartbreaking frown.

She was about to apologize, and blame all of what she said on her increasing stress, when he brazenly interrupted her.

"Just get out, Elena." he said

There was no command in his tone. Infect, it almost seemed like he posted it as a question. That was strange.

Damon didn't ask questions. He knew the answers to everything, as far as she could tell. He was usually the one _answering _the questions.

"Just please, leave."

Damon didn't beg either. Was she being set-up here? Was this another one of his jokes? She didn't believe what was coming out of Damon's sweet talking mouth.

She casually leant down further in his bed, settling herself so he could show that she was not going anywhere at any time in the near future.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's up. Why are you acting this way, Damon?"

The fact that she was in this position only a couple of weeks ago to witness a very secret part of Damon, was not lost on her. She knew what she was getting herself into. She was poking the viper.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Damon roll his shoulders like he was marching out to war. He looked ready for a nasty fight. She hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"I want him back, Elena." he rubbed his eyes with long, pale fingers. "But then add the fact that I have no clue where he is, or whether he wants to really come home or not, and you just get no hope at all. Absolutely nothing. And it also doesn't help that you just go strutting around with 'secret' tattoos, acting like it is the most natural thing in the world to drive me practically insane. Maybe it is natural to you. You sure seem to do it a lot."

Elena closed her eyes, thinking that if she did so it would stop the words from entering her ears. No such luck. She still heard them, unfortunately.

This was probably the first time Damon had actually come to terms with the fact that maybe they liked each other a little more than was considered appropriate. Well, maybe he had noticed it before, but he sure had never said anything to her.

They had never even talked about his 'death bed kiss.' They were in the awkward stage of denial where neither person wanted to say something first, afraid that they would assume too far. _He _didn't want to assume too far.

"I don't meant to," she spoke quietly, "I really don't."

Her eyes were still nailed shut, but that didn't stop her from knowing that Damon had just laid down next to her. When she quickly opened only one of her eyes, she saw that instead of the towel around his hips, there was a dark pair of jeans. He wore no shirt.

"I think we should talk about it," he said after a couple pauses of silence.

In her mind, Elena did a sort of victory dance. Damon wanted to talk about his feelings! At least, she expected it to be _that _conversation.

"I think we should, too."

Damon took a deep breath beside her, and she could just imagine him almost shifting uncomfortably. She always thought that 'flustered' was a sentiment he didn't do.

Under his voice there was a shake of nervousness. "You love my brother."

Even though it wasn't a question, she still nodded her head to the space above her. "I do."

Damon really shouldn't have felt an abnormal pain in his stomach from her words. He _knew_ they loved each other, more than anything in the world, if that was possible. He saw the physical evidence. He also did have a bedroom right across from Stefan. It was hell at night. So, there was no real reason it should have felt like Elena was taking her small hand, plunging it through his chest, and ripping his heart out.

There was no reason, but he still felt it.

"Then why did you do it?" Damon looked over to here. He noted that she still had her eyes closed.

It was the golden question, though. Why did she do it? What was she feeling at the moment?

Scared, terrified, lonely? Shocked to know that someone she cared about was dying a slow, painful death? Amazed that someone as strong as Damon had the ability to feel such great physical pain?

Elena had never been one to watch such a tortured animal suffer. And that is why she did it.

She wasn't trying to act like she pitied him. She wanted to know if his lips were as soft as they looked. She wanted to know what she could have possibly missed out on after he was gone. She wanted to know what he was feeling.

She wanted to know _Damon. _

She didn't say any of these things, though. Instead, she just settled on, "I don't know, Damon. All I know is that I wasn't doing it because I felt sorry for you." She turned her body towards him.

His eyes were clearly focused on her, his mouth set in a disbelieving scowl.

"I don't believe you. You always have been a horrible liar."

To be honest, she didn't expect him to buy the story anyway. She internally sighed. This little talk wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.

If it was one thing she knew about Damon, it was that he never made anything easy.

This time, she decided it was best just to go with the truth. "I know."

Damon managed a smile. "I thought we were always supposed to be honest with each other."

Elena never remembered agreeing to anything like that, but she didn't say anything against it. Damon was trying to work things out, and she did have to give him some props for that.

Before speaking again, Elena briefly looked over to his window. It was a wonderful day outside. She should have been out there, catching up with friends and strolling through the parks. Instead, she was caught between a rock and a vampire, and neither was very generous.

Damon was still looking at her, carefully waiting her out. Sometimes Elena thought he would delay until the end of time if he truly wanted something.

She shook her head slowly, trying to get rid of the annoying buzz in her ear. "I don't know what you want me to say, Damon."

Damon looked at the ceiling. He would have liked her to admit her undying love for him, or propose that she wanted him- body and mind. He would have liked at least something. _Anything. _

Her silence was much worse that the hurtful words she could lash out towards him. Her silence was deafening.

"Can you just do me a favor?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

Elena sat up with him, looking down at her hands, the floor, and then back to her twitching fingers. She didn't really like promising favors. Especially to people like Damon. It was ten shades of idiotic.

"I guess."

She didn't look at Damon- couldn't look at him- but she still felt the smirk radiating of him all the same. Typical Damon and all his complacency.

"When I steal Stefan back from Klause, I want you to promise me that things between us will not change."

Elena looked at him, confused.

"I want to make sure that we'll still stay…friends," he laughed, "If that's even what we are. I don't want you shying away from me just because Stefan will be back, and you feel guilty about kissing me."

The derisible elephant in the room let out a vast roar. It had to be said out loud sometime.

"And what makes you so sure that you can get Stefan back…or that he even will be eager to come back with you? And what about Klause? Are you just going to walk up to him, go, 'Hey, you know what? I think I want my brother back,' and then leave? Even you aren't that gullible, Damon."

Damon only responded with short, clipped words, his cerulean eyes piercing into her.

"I _am_ going to get him back, Elena."

.

.

The rest of the weekend had consisted of little sideways glances exchanged by her and Damon- she made sure not to look at him when he was watching, but she had a feeling that Damon could still feel her eyes on his back- and their talks were painfully awkward to the highest extent. There 'confession' speech had done more bad than it had good.

So much for the 'it will be great for you to get this off your chest' pep-talk she had given herself weeks prior to their conversation.

What a load of bull.

Basically, she had just convinced herself that the more she avoided Damon, the more she could get done. Damon, it seemed, was just a distraction for her. He was the constant road-block in her life, keeping herself from getting what she really wanted.

She just hadn't counted on the thing she really wanted in life…to want nothing to do with her.

There was nowhere to go on beyond here. She had no more plans, no ideas, or schemes that would help her get on with this predicament. She was stuck.

That left her with only one thing to do. Sit on a couch and mope. She was getting quite good at it, actually. It was better than having failed after failed attempt of your dumb plans blow up in your face. She would much rather just suffer this way. It was less painful.

"If you think any harder, your brain just might implode. I can practically hear those gears shifting in that pretty little head of yours."

Great. Just who she needed to see in order to complete her wonderful day of brooding and self-torture.

Elena pressed herself deeper into the soft leather of the couch, managing to repress her gutsful sigh, but not her dramatic eye-roll. She kept her eyes firmly away from him, looking everywhere else but that handsome face.

"What? You decided to talk to me now?" Her voice came out a lot more needy and deplorable than she intended it to be. She shifted uncomfortably.

Damon walked around the couch, plopping down next to her with a light grunt.

"You wanna know what the funny thing is?"

"Not really."

His eyebrows creased together. "Well, that's too bad. I'm going to tell you anyway."

Damon turned to her, placing his thumb and forefinger on her chin, gripping, and then pulling softy until she had no choice but to look at him. She could have fought it, but what would be the point in that?

He smiled flippantly when they made eye-contact. "_I _think that _you _have been avoiding me."

Well, no shit. Of course she had been avoiding him. It wasn't just like he was conveniently never around while she was around. She was purposely trying to dodge him. She figured that the more she did this, the easier things would become.

So far, it wasn't working.

She smiled sweetly over to him, trying to calm her breathing. He looked exceptionally good this morning, - not that she noticed- dressed in a light V-neck shirt, and dark wash jeans. His hair was still lightly damp from his shower. Elena tried not to note how he smelled like Stefan, especially near his neck and the white patch of skin that showed through the top of his low-cut shirt. The light coming from the window hit him at just an angle that made his eyes twinkle with something resembling mischief.

Elena looked at him closely, trying to figure why he reminded her so much of Stefan.

She started at the tips of his very black hair, and then to his deep-set eyes below dark arched eyebrows. The slope of his nose connected to perfectly rounded lips, the dimples near them making themselves present when he did something as simple as grimace. His sharply defined jaw was evenly pale despite the present 5 o'clock shadow he was sporting today. Her gaze moved down to the smooth expanse of his throat where she would never see his pulse jump, and then to the hallow in his throat where his collarbone made its appearance beside it. The rest of his slim, compact body was hidden by form-fitting clothes. That didn't stop her from remembering his beautifully angst-filled tattoo on his practically bare body.

Any person would have to be blind to not see how perfect he was…Physically, at least. Emotionally was just another story.

Suddenly, it hit her. She was reminded so much of Stefan when she looked at Damon not because of the physical resemblance (they looked nothing alike) but because of her feelings for both of them.

No, she did not believe she loved Damon, but she did know that she had something towards him that was more than just friendly. She both cared about Damon and Stefan in equal manner. She wouldn't be able to go on if either of them died. If either of them was hurt because of her, then the guilt would forever be locked away in the deepest parts of her mind.

Her whole word had now revolved around both brothers. She was trying to save one from the evil vampire/werewolf clutches of Klause, and was trying to save Damon from himself. He was, in essence, his own worst enemy.

"I haven't been avoiding you, Damon. Obviously, you just read into things too easily."

Damon shook his head; an all-knowing smile perched on his lips she had just been taking memo of earlier. "I know when someone's dodging me, Elena. I've had a lot of experience with that over the years. Now, we are going to properly talk about things. So, strap in. This might be a bumpy ride."

Before Elena could even protest, Damon had cleared his throat, looking like he was about to make a very important, very informational dialog.

"I get it, Elena. I get that you love Stefan, and basically want nothing to do with me, and I just had to make things more complicated by almost dying and saying that I love you."

There was that damn elephant again.

"But you need to get your head out of the clouds. We kissed, Elena! What am I supposed to make out of that? Where you sorry for me, or something? Because that is basically the vibe I am getting from you. You were willing to sit with me as I died, and you just have to guts to hide away from me? I thought we were closer than that. I think it would just be better for you to say you pity me, and just get on with it."

Elena shook her head. He had this all wrong! "I don't pity you, Da-"

"This would just go a lot easier if you just agreed with what I said," he interrupted.

Too stunned to do anything else, Elena just nodded weakly. The sun was hitting her body, but she just felt cold.

He continued, the words rushing out. "I know you don't love me. You probably never will, and it most likely makes you sick to your stomach to hear that I love you…But I do. I didn't say it that night because I was delusional or half crazy. I said it because you needed to know it if I did happen to die."

Elena swallowed harshly, barely noticing how the back of her throat was closing up. She tried to look away from his painfully honest gaze, but he pulled her face back to him, before ghosting his hand against the base of her throat. He could probably feel her fleeting, throbbing pulse.

She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to hear what she had been denying for so long.

"And I haven't been completely honest with you, either."

God, she just wished he would stop talking. She couldn't take any more of this. It was torture.

"But maybe I should tell you about that sometime later. I mean, you still have failed to show me that little tattoo of yours. Apparently I'm not the only one with little moral value when it comes to the body."

He stood, leaving her just shy of being completely breathless. She was going to get whiplash from his constant mood swings.

Damon glanced at Elena one last time before he made his escape. He would have hated to admit it to anyone else, but he felt almost embarrassed. Elena always just seemed to have that effect on him.

He was sure that, if he were human of course, there would have been blood boiling beneath his cheeks.

He took one step…and then he was gone, disappearing to nowhere visible as far as Elena could see.

He had disappeared.

Just like he always did.

.

.

When Elena had laid down to go to bed that night, she noticed that sleeping in Stefan's room just felt wrong. It was quite obvious that he wanted nothing to do with her, and yet she was still sleeping in his bed like some love-sick teenager?

Well, she was a love-sick teenager. She didn't have any excuses besides that.

This could have partially given the reason to why she suddenly decided to catapult out of Stefan's bed and look at it with a high degree of disgust.

But, it did not describe why she had the fleeting urge to go sleep in Damon's room. Maybe it was because she was lonely in this big house, and Damon just happened to be the only…un-living…person within miles of this place.

Yes, she would go with that. That was a valid enough reason. She was simply lonely and Damon could help with that. He wouldn't mind the company, right?

Elena clutched her hands closer to her body, chattering her teeth lightly. With one last shameful look back behind her, she made her way out of Stefan's room and across the hall.

Damon's door was shut, but not locked when she came to it. She almost contemplated whether she wanted to knock or not, but seeing how it was very late at night, she just decided that Damon was already sleeping.

And she was right. When she had pushed open Damon's big oak door, she came to find an extremely at ease looking Damon, breathing gently and lying on his back.

Despite how well she knew Damon and all his qualities, she still found herself smiling. But she did catch herself however, when she started to make her way towards the giant bed.

She wasn't actually going to get in there was she? No.

Looking around, she found a couch that looked comfortable enough, and implanted herself on that instead.

The own sound of her steady heart beat and her and Damon's breathing in tandem caused her to be gently lulled further into sleep.

Her last thought before she did get pulled into her own dreams deeply concerned her.

Why did she stop herself from sleeping in Damon's bed?

.

.

_A/N: Oh, God. They seriously just need to jump each other's bones already! On another note; how awesome was last night's episode? I adored the Damon/Caroline fighting, even if it was for the wrong reasons. Damon can just be such a heartless dick sometimes! Doesn't he realize that he will NEVER get the girl by acting that way? And 'killing' Alaric? That's just cold. And am I the only one who thinks Klause is a cutie-pie? I was always a sucker for the bad ones…I am also totally digging the Caroline/Tyler pairing, the Anna return, and the bad-boy Stefan. He got A LOT hotter just because he now likes ripping out people's throats alongside with another sexy vampire. And if there is any more sexual tension between Elena and Damon…then I might just have to contact the writers of the show. They. Just. Need. To. Kiss. Already!_

_Well, enough of my play-by-play. Feel free to review at the end. And I am very sorry if this chapter was boring and dumb to you guys. I had a very hard time writing this. It was probably due to the fact that it was just supposed to be a one-show in the first place. Oopps…And do you guys even know how hard it is for a 14 year old to type a story when she is supposed to be doing her Algebra homework? Talk about multi-tasking…_


	3. Killing Me By Keeping Me Alive

_A/N: I just want to thank each and every one of you for your support. It really inspires me to write more._

.

_Mistaken Observations: Killing Me By Keeping Me Alive_

.

.

"You're cute when you sleep."

Elena scrunched up her nose and stretched languidly. The last thing she had remembered from last night was falling asleep in an awkward position on a couch. But, right now, there was a warm breath in her ear.

Turning on her side slightly, she bumped into a rock-hard, and very good smelling object. That confused her.

What was going on? The couch didn't feel like this last night…

Scared at what she would find, Elena slowly opened one of her groggy eyes, wincing when the sunlight hit them with a painful force.

She wasn't very surprised to find that Damon was smiling down at her.

"Ugh," she pushed on Damon's bare chest and frowned as she detangled her legs from his. "What the hell are you doing?"

He laughed before answering. "Me? I wasn't doing anything. You were the one who decided to sleep in my room, all innocent like." Damon absently pushed his hands behind his head, smirked at her, and inattentively closed his eyes.

Elena sat up with the most effort she could muster and crossed her legs. Looking down, she inwardly groaned. Of course she just _had _to be wearing panties. Was she mentally challenged or something? This whole time she had been trying to keep from tempting Damon to the point where he snapped.

Was this her way of not tempting?

"I was sleeping on your couch," she looked around, "How did I get in your bed?"

Damon raised his eyebrows like he was trying to humor her. "Magic."

Fighting a smile was almost painful at this point. She ducked her head and rubbed along her brow, hoping that he didn't catch her snicker.

This situation, in Damon's case, was a lot more awkward than he let on. When he had woken up early that morning, he had to do a double take when he saw Elena sprawled on his couch. She looked uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and troubled, but still delicious enough to eat. And he just figured that she would look a lot more delicious if she was in his bed…with him next to her.

So, that was exactly what he did. He just strode over to her, swooped her up, and then stopped again when he came to realize that she was practically naked against him.

He had to take a couple of deep breaths after that, just so he wasn't in danger of dropping her- this predicament was hard enough on him- and he figured it wouldn't be a good morning if he came to find out that she now had chronic brain damage from her pesky fall.

And it was that damn pink underwear that he had caught her in late one night last week. He didn't really mean to spy, he swore, but if anyone else was to hear something in the kitchen at 2:00 in the morning, then he would've bet anything that that person would have taken a look to see if it was a burglar, too.

As it turns out, Elena was just getting a glass of water. He quickly and quietly slipped away, unnoticed, and headed back up to his bedroom. Even as he tried to go to sleep, he still saw those long, tan, and healthy legs in his very provocative dreams.

Sure, it was nothing he couldn't have seen if she was wearing a bathing suit, but just knowing that the garment was _panties_ and not bathing suit bottoms was just a little too much for him to take in.

And the fact that she was now lying in bed with him, wearing said undergarments, took a big hit on his libido.

What was she trying to do, anyway? Wait until he imploded?

Vampires only had so much self-control until they just did what they wanted. And right now he, or at least certain parts of him, just wanted to say, 'to hell with it,' and ravage her like he had so badly wanted to from the beginning.

"Do you want to tell me exactly _why _I found you in my room this morning?" He opened his eyes this time, but wisely kept them on her face.

She had really done a good amount of tossing and turning that morning, and it left zero to his imagination.

Elena un-buried her face from her hunched up knees and looked at him with uncertainty. "Do you want to tell me why I insist on sleeping in Stefan's bed every night?"

He slowly shook his head. "You said it makes you feel closer to him, like he never even left.

"Nope," she scoffed, "It makes me feel like a load of crap, though."

She couldn't see it from her viewing, but he sighed. He would have immensely enjoyed if just one of their conversations didn't revolve around Stefan.

"Infect, I got a little freaked out."

The way she said it made Damon want to grin. They could talk about Stefan all she wanted if it was going to be this kind of discussion. Elena frequently talked about Stefan, but never in this manner. He had to admit that it was nice to have a change.

He nudged her with his shoulder. "Stefan usually has than effect on women."

For a brief minute there was almost a smile on her face, but it quickly clouded over. It was almost like she couldn't believe she was finding humor in something so harsh. It ruined her mood.

In quick, hurried movements, she ripped the rest of the sheets off of her and scooted her way off the bed. There was really no point in caring if Damon watched her ass on the way out. From what she could comprehend, he had already gotten an eye-full anyway.

Feeling oddly offended, Elena just made her way out, slamming the door behind her and leaving Damon to carefully ponder why he always had to open his big mouth.

It seemed like they both lived a repetitive life with each other. They would warm up to one another, one of them would get pissed off or Elena would start to feel like she was betraying Stefan- even though Stefan was the one betraying her- by talking to Damon, and then one of them would just leave the tension at that.

Damon also wondered if they would even get passed that.

.

.

Caroline looked across the table, set her coffee down, and tapped her manicured nails against the glass.

She was beginning to make Elena anxious. When she had left Damon in her hurried escape that morning, she had thought it would be a good idea to have some one-on-one girl time with Caroline. Now, she was suddenly realizing that maybe Caroline didn't just want to chat. No, what Caroline really wanted was some answers. All Elena had to worry about was having the right responses.

"You've been avoiding Bonnie and I like we have some disease you don't want to catch."

Elena's fingers twitched against her fork. The pasta in front of her suddenly didn't look all too appetizing.

It wasn't so much that she had been avoiding them. Caroline and Bonnie knew that she loved each of them equally, and for Caroline to outright accuse her of something she didn't really have any control over was a touch bit cruel.

"I've just been busy, Care," she tried her attempt at a small smile. "You know that."

"Yeah, busy with Damon."

Elena tried not to let her shock get the best of her. Usually, Caroline was the most understanding- if not a bit flighty- one of the bunch. Vampirism had changed her for the better. She was supposed to be supporting Elena in her time of need.

She set her fork on her plate delicately and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "What exactly are you implying, Caroline?"

In front of her, Caroline simply shrugged her pink-cardigan clad shoulders and tugged at the ends of her blonde hair. "You just have been spending a lot of time with him, that's all. People will start to talk, Elena."

"About what?" Elena asked, "Because there is honestly nothing to talk about. Do people know that Stefan is even gone?"

Caroline kept her blue eyes down, looking at her feet. "All people think is that Stefan broke up with you, left town, and now Damon is left picking up the pieces. And that somewhere along the way you started to fall for him."

That was pretty damn close if she said so herself. It was one of the disadvantages of living in such a small town. Everyone knew everyone and news travelled like wildfires.

Elena shook her head, staring into the sun with a frustrated expression gracing her features. When she regained her composure, she looked back over at Caroline. "People don't know anything, Care. You out of anybody I know should understand that."

Caroline nodded, looking like a naughty child who has just been scolded. She carefully smoothed her left hand over her skirt. "I know that, I honestly do. It's just that you never seem to have time for me anymore, and when I come to find out that you and Damon are, like, BFF's or something, it really makes me feel like some second-choice…bimbo."

Elena couldn't help but smile as Caroline's usual bubbly, teenage linguistic made its way through her tough vampire façade. It was reassuring to know that the old Caroline, the one she grew up with, was still deep in her heart.

"Damon of all people would never be able to replace you, Caroline. Can you just imagine him in red high heels and a matching skirt?"

Caroline pouted, but seemed to find the humor in it after a couple of seconds. Elena hoped that all was forgiven.

While Caroline was preoccupied with grinning and laughing in glee, Elena decided that it was her time to explain herself.

"Damon is always going to be there, Caroline. But that's all he's going to do. He'll be someone for me to lean on when I need to. He's helping me get through to Stefan right now, and that is what is most important. Putting my mixed-up feelings aside, I really do trust him. Damon is just going to be Damon. There is nothing I can really do about that."

To her dismay, Caroline didn't let the part about her feelings for Damon slide.

"What do you mean mixed-up feelings? You don't have a crush on him or something, do you?"

A light breeze seemed to pick up and Elena distractingly pulled her hair back in a messy pony-tail with a little more force than necessary. Didn't Caroline catch anything she just said?

Annoyance seeped into her voice. "No, Care."

"Sorry," she put up two hands, "It's just that this little jam you're in sounds a lot like how Tyler and I were before we got together."

This caught Elena's attention. "Care to elaborate?"

Caroline smiled, seemingly happy to be going into story-telling mode. "Well, when Matt and I were together, Tyler was still just this conceited, bad-ass douche, who everyone liked just because they had to. And if you think about it really hard, that is just like Damon…Or that was how he used to be, anyway."

Nodding, Elena motioned for her to continue.

"And Matt is kind of like Stefan. Sure, he isn't this tortured and brooding vampire, but he is the type of boy who always wants to do the right thing and feels bad when bad things happen to other people. Are you following me?"

"Yup."

"Good," she smiles, "Now, as time goes on, I start to find out that Tyler is making some changes. I now know that he is a werewolf, and that we sort of complete each other in a weird way. We both thought that we were monsters, but by bonding and talking over our problems, we found out that we could be perfect friends."

Internally, Elena sighed. She knew exactly where this was going.

"And this is _just _like you and Damon. You start to see little glimpses of good in him, not to mention that he has saved you so many times that even I have lost track, and you find out that you guys do have some things in common besides your love to fight with each other."

"We do not have that many things in common, Care."

"No?" Caroline raised a pale blonde eyebrow, "You both are headstrong, both know what you want, won't take no for an answer, fall in love almost too easily, and when you do fall in love it is for a very long time, you both can be funny when you want to, you have both recently lost someone close to you, and you both can be sensitive, even if Damon doesn't seem like it at most times." Caroline smirks. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but that seems like a lot of things to me."

Elena crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. "Just get back to your story before I walk away."

"As I was saying, Matt started to back away and become more distant. This is where Tyler and I were spending more and more time with one another, getting to know each other and seeing what made the other tick. And then one night…he just kissed me. It's time to face the facts, Elena. Stefan is now gone, and you and Damon are seeing each other every day, noticing what makes you both mad, and noticing what makes you both happy. And a little birdy told me that you guys have already kissed…"

Elena almost couldn't believe her ears. "What? Who told you that?"

Caroline fidgeted in her chair, picking up a useless breadstick and munching on it. "Another thing you and Damon seem to have in common is that you both occasionally have a big mouth. Damon told me weeks ago. I would have confronted you earlier about it, but you were always so busy and stressed that I never wanted to bother you."

Elena really didn't even have the anger to be upset about the fact that Damon talked to Caroline about their kiss before he talked to Elena herself.

Caroline gave her a sympathetic look. "At first I was really confused about the kiss, just like I am sure you are right now about yours with Damon, and I almost questioned who I wanted. By when I stayed with Matt all I could ever think about was that damn kiss and how I had rejected Tyler. It really did kill me to not know who I wanted. It eventually just came down to who understood and respected me more. I guess the real question I should be asking you is if you really know who you want to be with."

"You sound like you actually want me to pick Damon."

Caroline lifted her shoulders. "I just want what makes you happy. If Damon is that person, then you should go for it. Consequences be damned. Just live in the moment and see where that gets you."

Wondering if Caroline even knew how crazy she sounded, Elena pursed her lips and fingered the edge of her water glass. "Do you even know how weird that would be? Damon and I holding hands and not having anything negative to say towards each other?"

"To be perfectly honest? No, I couldn't imagine that. But I also couldn't imagine myself going for a good guy like Matt or a werewolf- a vampire's natural born enemy- like Tyler. Everything just happens for a reason, Elena."

She groaned. Caroline was starting to make sense. "But what about Stefan? What kind of person would I be if he needed me most, and I just went for his older brother? God, I sound like a slut just by talking about it."

Caroline shook her head, her curls bouncing in the wind. "I really think you're going about this all wrong. Just because you have an extremely delicate conscience and are generally a good person who does not like hurting other people, does not take away from the fact that you are human. Your body and your mind aren't always going to agree with each other. Trust me," she smiled sadly, "I am just further proof of that. I don't like the idea of drinking blood to survive, but my body needs it whether I like it or not."

"Did you practice making these speeches this morning?" Elena suddenly felt like she was witnessing her own intervention.

Obviously happy with the almost-compliment, Caroline beamed, flashing her perfectly white teeth with lip-glossed lips that stretched over them. "Nope, I am just naturally this good at helping my friend with boy…well, I guess this should be considered 'man' problems, shouldn't it?"

"What was Damon like when he was…you know, pretending to date you?" Elena asked suddenly.

Caroline smirked, pretending to check her nails. "A dick. But, of course, I was no match for those blue eyes and perfect-" She stopped suddenly, catching herself from saying what she was unconsciously about to tell. She waved a hand. "Even if didn't compel me, I still think I would have stayed. I was just that emotionally damaged."

Elena raised an eyebrow. "Was he really _that_ good in bed?"

Caroline looked at her directly, all traces of amusement gone from her pretty face. "Is the sky blue?"

Elena snickered. Sometimes Caroline was just too much.

"Seriously, I'm not joking. I never knew what great uses could be pulled out of living for so long, but now I know. It all just ties together with sex. Well, that and never growing old. _That_ will be pretty cool. I used to think that someone as cruel as Damon didn't deserve to stay forever beautiful, but after finding out the story behind it, I didn't really feel that way anymore. I guess he kind of earned it."

"I wasn't aware you could earn the rights to be eternally attractive."

"Oh, you can. It's in the vampire guidebook. You should read it sometime." Caroline winked at her. The mischief in her eyes showed Elena just what she meant by 'reading' the guidebook.

They had been through this before, her, Caroline, and Bonnie. They had all agreed that they would do anything in their power to keep Elena safe from the dangers of becoming a vampire. She wanted to stay the only normal human girl in the party of three.

She was quickly finding out that there were a lot of things that she wanted that she ultimately couldn't have.

Elena grimaced and slowly watched as Caroline's smiled faded away.

"I was just kidding, 'Lena. You know that I want you to stay human. Everyone does, even Damon."

The sound of an annoyed tapping foot on concrete suddenly filled the air from Elena's sandal. "And when exactly did you and Damon have these heartfelt conversations?"

A very un-lady like snort came from the back of Caroline's throat. "Please, it was anything but heartfelt. He was drunk and I ended up kicking him out at the end."

"Why?" Elena asked

"Have you met Damon? He can sometimes get on people's nerves. In plus, all he could talk about what how much he loved you." Caroline froze in her chair the same time Elena froze in hers.

"Sorry," Caroline whispered, "Sometimes when I open my mouth, I don't know when to shut it again."

Holding up a hand, Elena stopped her. "It's fine, Care. Damon has already told me multiple times how much he…cares for me." It was had finding a word to substitute for 'love,' but somehow Elena managed it.

"Cares for you?" Caroline scoffed. "What are me, twelve?"

Elena gave her a disapproving look from the corner of her eyes, and turned back towards her pasta. The food at least looked edible, now. "You're not helping."

"Sorry, I'll just be quiet now." Caroline pretended to lock her lips and throw away the keys. Elena just rolled her eyes at her friend.

They sat in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. The breeze was light and airy, and cooled them off when they were in danger of getting too hot in the mid-summer weather. People walked by, not even noticing the topic of Elena of Caroline's distressing conversation. They all just lived their perfect little lives, complete with the white picket fence, and lovely family to go home to at night. They had no Original vampires to be worried about, or crazy vampire boyfriends who made it their duty to rip anything apart within range. And they most definitely did not have unstable vampire brothers confessing their undying love for them.

Elena stopped. She was in danger of sounding bitter. She was in danger of sounding like Damon. Maybe he was having more of an effect on her than she would have liked to admit.

Across from her, Caroline was fidgeting anxiously, picking up her spoon, setting it down, and then repeating the motion all over again.

Elena sighed. "Alright, spit it out. What do you want to tell me?"

Caroline grinned. "How did you know I wanted to say something?"

"Because you always have something to say," Elena stuck her tongue at Caroline when she rolled her eyes. "That and you look like your about to have a conniption over there."

Breathing out a huffed breath, Caroline continued. "Well, this might seem a bit personal, but…"

"But?" Elena urged.

"But, didn't it kind of, I don't know, touch you when Damon said he loved you? Did you even feel anything at all?"

_Did_ she feel anything at all? She felt shocked, of course, but she really shouldn't have been surprised. Damon had been giving little signs here and there.

For instance, the time he told her that he would always pick her and no one else was a good indicator. Elena had just been too blind to see that their flirty banter could've meant something more to him. She really had been doing nothing but leading him on this whole time.

"I-" Elena had to stop, trying to find the right words for this type of conversation. "I don't…know." She finished lamely. "I never really thought about any of it. I guess I was just too busy with Stefan and everything going around me that I never even noticed."

Caroline raised an eyebrow, a small, delicate smile on her lips. "Don't you think it's time to start noticing?"

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When Elena drove home that night, Caroline's words haunted her every thought. What did she mean 'don't you think it's time to start noticing?' Whose side was she on, anyway? First, she hated Damon, and now she was suddenly all for her and Elena facing their feelings towards each other? What did she even mean by that?

It was probably just Caroline's usual 'call it as I see it' attitude. If she saw something she didn't like, or saw something that she did, then she was bound to tell the whole human race her opinion in it.

So, in all honesty, Elena couldn't really blame her for any of it. But the one thing she could blame Caroline for was being right.

Elena shut her car off with idle fingers, looking at the glowing lights admitting from inside the boarding house. Opening up the door, she was faced with a cool summer breeze and the chilling melody of little frogs in the pond near the woods.

_This is it, _Elena thought. _This is going to happen. I have to do Caroline good and prove that I can be a confident, mature, and slightly deranged girl. _

Her legs felt like jelly as she walked up the stairs, opening the door like she owned the place. Well, she _did_ own the place, so Damon really couldn't complain anymore about that.

Before walking in, Elena briefly looked back at her car. When she walked through this door there was no going back. This was her time to bail out and push it to another day. This was her time to convince herself that Damon didn't need to know anything.

To her surprise, Elena still found herself walking through the threshold.

Now, she was screwed.

"You can come in, you know. It's not like I'll bite or something."

Elena heard Damon's voice from around the corner. He sounded distressed…and like he had just drunken his whole liquor supply in record time.

Taking a deep breath, she walked forward. When she made her way into the living room, she saw that the fire was blazing in its pit. It gave off a warm glow to the room and she was immediately comforted by the sensation.

Damon was casually lounging on one of his leather couches; a bottle of Bourbon nestled between his legs, his head in his hands.

Elena stood her ground, trying to look as intimidating as she could with the lighting in the room.

"Damon, we need to talk."

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_A/H: Can't wait for this week's Vampire Diaries! I hope Damon saves the day (again) and Elena finally realizes that he is the right one for her._

_Leave reviews! Sorry if this chapter sucks. Sometimes it is really hard for my ADD brain to actually sit down and find ideas for chapters._


	4. Actions Hurt More Than Words

_A/N: Once again, thank you to all the supporters out there. It makes my morning to wake up, check my e-mail, and see all the lovely reviews. And sorry that this update was so late; I've had to deal with a lot of crap this week, and it made it hard to think of things to write._

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_Mistaken Observations: Actions Hurt More Than Words_

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A glass from Damon's hand slipped onto the floor, the contents spilling, and his eyes looking like iced over glaciers. His spine was erect and tense against the back of his chair, and Elena thought he looked like he was about ready to pounce on any given demand.

The fire that was contently burning in front of him gave off odd patterns on the walls, on his face, and on the ring that casually sat on his slim, cold finger. There were dark, bruised like shadows under his eyes like he had not eaten anything with a red, sticky quality to it in weeks- he probably hadn't to tell the truth- and the dark brows above his eyes were furrowed in emotion very closely to a mixture of pain and bewilderment.

Elena wasn't trying to guess what thoughts were running through his brain right now, but she was going to go out on a limb and say that all he was thinking about was getting the hell out of this situation as fast as possible.

They had been down this long, tiring road before, and they both know that nothing good ever came out of it. One person would always end up with the hurt feelings, and the threat to never speak to the other person was always said in vain.

If Elena could just get through this one conversation without having the full-effect of Damon's eyes on her, and if she could just manage to say only nice things to him in response, then hopefully there would be no problems or bumps along the way.

They could just move forward from this, continue their friendship with each other, and carry on their business with trying to find Stefan. At least, that is was Elena was forcing herself to think.

But then again, Damon always had a new way of surprising her in odd situations.

"Do you even know how tired I am of being talked to?" He spoke suddenly, his voice bizarrely clear despite all the alcohol he had just until recently consumed. "Do you even know how tired I am of being told what to do, where to go, and who to be?"

Okay, where was this coming from? She was trying to talk about her feelings, not his personal baggage that he had to deal with every day. Was this just one of the many side-effects of Damon's alcohol addiction or just the wave of emotion he was busy brimming up to the top?

Elena carefully moved forwards; she didn't move to fast, in fear that he would suddenly leap up and never look back.

"Maybe we should be done with the Bourbon, Damon" she quietly spoke and gingerly took the bottle away from in between the tight grip of his thighs.

"No," he snapped, but then sighed, defeated. He let her take the bottle and place it on the table in front of him. He looked at it sadly. He could resist anyone else's commands, but when it came to Elena…he didn't stand a chance in hell.

She sat down beside him, and looked where he was looking. She didn't see anything special, but Damon seemed fascinated by the nothingness before him.

Elena licked her lips, looking around, and then moving her gaze to his frustrated eyes. He looked like he was thinking about something really hard; he looked like he was thinking over something _too _hard.

A light bulb went off in her head. "Did something happen while I was gone? Did you hear anything new?"

Before she could stop him, Damon swiped the Bourbon off its spot on the oak table, toke a hearty swig, and closed his eyes. "What makes you think that?"

Elena studied him closely, taking note of how eternally exhausted he looked to her eyes; he looked like he had just through World War II. "Just a hunch," she spoke, "Or it could be the fact that you're drunk out of your mind, and have no clue what your even talking about right now."

"Isn't that how I am every day?"

If he was trying to make a joke out of this, Elena didn't find it very amusing.

"Stop trying to be cute, Damon." She snatched away his bottle before he could take another drink. She sometimes thought that Damon could stall forever if he wanted to. "What is going on?"

Damon opened his eyes, and turned to her, his pretty mouth set in a frown. There was something…off…about his eyes. The usual laughter and mocking glint was suddenly being sucked into his black irises. These eyes did not belong to the Damon Salvatore she had grown to care about. Those eyes had one been what they looked like when he didn't give a rats-ass about anything or anyone. He looked dead, and not in the un-dead vampire kind of way. He looked weary and defeated.

"What did you do?" she said this mostly to herself. Surly, whatever caused Damon this much distress had to be about something _he_ personally did, right? Maybe he was feeling guilty for something he didn't mean to do. Maybe he had accidently killed or fed on a girl tonight.

In all honesty, she wouldn't have blamed him. Damon was known to be one of those men that just kept their emotions bottled up until they just couldn't take it anymore. If Damon was stressed about Stefan, stressed about her well-fare, and about what Klause was currently wreaking havoc on, then she really couldn't say she wouldn't do the same. It didn't make it anymore _right_, but if he had done something of that sort, then she would not be mad at him. For one, she didn't even have the energy to be mad at anyone for a long time, and getting mad at Damon was just a chore in its self.

In the end, she couldn't stay mad at him for long….

Damon eyes seemed to lighten up in the background, but not out of happiness. This fire was out of rage; this fire was pure anger. "Are you serious? Please, just for my sanity, tell me that you are joking."

Elena resisted the urge to shrug her shoulders, and proceeded to look at him with puzzled eyes. What did he want her to say exactly? As far she was concerned there was nothing comforting to be said at this moment.

"I just want to know what's wrong. Is that so bad? You always seem to want to know what my problems are, so why can't I ask about yours?" Elena was trying her best not to get frustrated right now.

Damon scrubbed tired eyes with his clenched fist. "I don't want to know your problems, Elena. I'm the reason you have problems."

What? Now they were talking about his un-canning ability to get her in odd predicaments? Were they even having the same conversation right now?

"We live in the same house," she deadpanned, "We're going to have to talk about these things if we both want to stay sane, if that's even possible at this point."

Elena could recognize the stubborn set in his jaw that said he was not going to talk. Utterly disappointed, she sat up against the armrest of the leather couch, opened his bottle of Bourbon, and took a mouthful of it. It burned on the way down her throat, but she was grateful for the warm feeling that would soon be evading her belly. She could see why someone like Damon could get hooked on this stuff.

She tucked her legs under her, carful in the act as to not brush against Damon. He didn't look like he wanted to be touched any time soon.

After a couple of minutes of pure silence, save for the popping of crackling fire in the pit, and steady thrum of her heartbeat, she opened her mouth only to snap it shut once again. If she wanted Damon to open up, then she needed to choose her words prudently.

"This isn't about Stefan, is it?" So much for filtering the topic of her words. The last thing she wanted to do was bring him up.

By the noticeable way Damon flinched, and then automatically winced in what seemed like pain at Stefan's name, Elena knew that something was off kilter.

"Are you okay?" she asked apprehensively.

Damon only nodded his head, and Elena seemed to let the topic go, but inside she was burning with a thousand questions. He wasn't alright; she could see right through his tough male bravado. Inside, he was just as much of a kid as she was. He had just gotten his life cut too early, his life put in a stand-still where he couldn't even grow anymore. It was tragic to Elena. To never be able to grow old, or have your own children, or see what the world had to offer as you aged with it.

_What must that be like? _Elena thought. Miserable was the only word she could come up with.

Elena tipped back her drink once more, and thought about the picture she had come across when Damon was maybe about fourteen or fifteen. He was a beautiful boy- not that it surprised her at all- all dimples, smiling blue eyes, and unruly black hair. The scar from when he was six was presently there, creating a white line through one of his dark brows, and even though she couldn't see it, she knew that the bite mark on his inner thigh would be there too.

When Elena had come crossed the picture- it was conveniently placed in one of Stefan's drawers- the only thing she could think of was how sad it was that in eight short years his entire being would simply just stop. It was truly something out of a tragic, melodramatic horror story.

Elena buried the back of her neck further into the couch, letting a certain humorous conversation between her and Damon fill the contents of her mind.

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"_What were you like as a child?" Elena asked, watching as Damon fiddled with a large map. This was basically what their life consisted of now. They would do anything they thought would help to find Stefan, and Elena would sometimes busy herself with asking Damon random facts about his human life._

"_Pretty much an ass," he smirked. "If you add the fact that I had a major case of ADHD, or as people back then called it 'the devil in a boy', and the detail that I couldn't shut up to save my life, then I could safely say that I was hell on two legs."_

_Elena absently twiddled her thumbs; a vampire with ADHD? Now, that was something you didn't hear every day. _

"_What's it like?" _

_Damon shrugged, and circled with red pen on the map. "Kind of sucks. You can't sit still. They tried shoving some pills down my throat, but it was the olden ages, they didn't know shit back then." _

_She couldn't help but smile at this. "Seems like you were exciting back then."_

_Damon grinned, flashing his white teeth. "Oh, I was. You just had to be there to get the full affect, believe me."_

"_Did other people see you that way?"_

_Damon scrunched his eyebrows together, ponding. "I don't know. All I think they knew was that I was a Salvatore, and that Salvatore's were born to create trouble."_

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The lingering memory silently left, and Elena was still faced with a fire, dimmed down lights, and a very drunk and seemingly sad vampire.

This time when she looked towards Damon, he had his head in his hands, looking at the floor, she guessed.

"Stefan came by the house."

The words seemed all wrong to her. They reverberated off the walls, and back into her ears. They sounded hallow, and oddly rehearsed, like Damon was just waiting for the right time to tell her. This just confused her more. What was going on?

The room did a slow spin around her. She had to grip the edge of the couch just to convince herself that this was real, that this was really happening to her sad little life right now.

Through the hard lump in her throat that had not been there moments before, she spoke in a peculiarly haunted kind of way. "And when was this?"

"A couple of hours after you left with Caroline. He came with Klause."

Elena tensed. Of course he would come with that bastard. After all, they were best friends and all. Klause was probably the reason Stefan even dared to step inside his old house again.

Elena spoke the next line through clenched teeth. "And what did they want exactly?"

Damon didn't say anything for the longest time, and Elena just assumed that he was done talking again, like he felt he had already said too much, and he didn't think her weak, human heart could take much more. It probably couldn't, but she was going to die trying, then.

"What did they want, Damon?" she was using her 'I mean it this time' tone that Damon was all too accustomed to hearing every now and then.

He noticeably swallowed, but never met her eyes. She was going to pretend that the act alone didn't mean anything at all. He was perfectly fine in front of her, well, he wasn't dead. She didn't know how 'perfectly fine' he was though. Whatever he was going to say couldn't be that bad.

"He tried to kill me."

But Elena wasn't prepared for that. She felt her throat close up, and her eyes blurred with what seemed like fury, or maybe tears, but it was probably just a combination of both. She couldn't move; her bones were locked together in an inflexible state, and if she did move then she probably would have seriously hurt herself.

"Klause tried to kill you?" she was now pleading to whoever in the heavens would listen to her. If he said 'Stefan' then she really didn't think her heart could take it. She didn't know how she would react that low blow. Maybe it would actually kill her.

But Damon couldn't hear her inner monologue. He simply just shook his head, looking at the ground like it held the world's most complicated puzzle. "No, Elena. It was Stefan."

As it turns out, Elena didn't really have to think about how she would react to this news. Instead, her world just merely turned black.

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When Elena woke up some hours later, she found that she was no longer lying on the couch next to Damon, but on a large, comfy bed that couldn't be mistaken for anyone else's but Damon's.

The lights were turned off, but even as she turned she could still see his profile in the moonlight shining through his windows. His blue eyes shining through the darkness were the only indictor that he was even awake.

_Awake. _She needed to take time to appreciate that he was still alive and breathing. If she had lost Damon tonight then there would be no possible way that she could go on in her life. That would be one more person she could put on her mental list of innocent people that died trying to protect her or someone else they loved.

Without Damon keeping her afloat…she truly had no one. How undeniably sad was that?

As her sleep induced eyes flittered down, she noticed, in great shock, that Damon was shirtless. When she looked even closer, she could also see that he wasn't doing it to make her uncomfortable or because he always did that when he went to bed. He was doing it because there was a large, bloodied patch of white on his abdomen. She hated to note that it was inches away from his un-beating heart.

Without any words, she hesitatingly reached out and touched the red-spattered gauze. When he didn't protest or cringe from the pain, she carefully took one of the edges and pulled it back, revealing more and more of the same thing: dried blood and then some fresh blood that coated his smooth skin. Her hand ghosted over the open wound. She was trying to convince herself that Stefan wasn't capable of something like this, but it was hard to when the facts were being shoved right in her face. Stefan had stabbed Damon before; Elena even had wanted to stab Damon before, but never to permanently end, never to kill.

This time, Damon did flinch, but not out of pain. Her hand must have been cold on his skin, she presumed. At least, she hoped that the action was because of that.

She met his eyes in a strong beam of light coming from deep outside. "Why isn't it healing?"

Damon looked down at his wound, and then back to her. He shrugged, trying to keep the alarm of shock and eternal pain out of his actions. "I haven't eaten in a while. I think he used a special kind of stake, one that makes it take longer to heal even if you do happen to survive…which I obviously wasn't supposed to."

Those damn tears were making their way back into her eyes. She was sure that Damon could see them, but was thankful when he adverted his gaze to somewhere else. He was probably thinking that she was crying because Stefan was now permanently gone, but she was really crying because she almost lost the person who cared for her more than life itself.

The softer and more sensitive part of Elena told her to grab Damon's hand, and that is exactly what she did. Reaching over, she took his cold, limp, and slightly bloody hand in hers, and held on as tightly as she could. After a moment of brief pause, Damon squeezed back.

"What would I have done if you were killed?" she found herself asking the ceiling.

Damon blew out a breath. "You would have gotten over it."

"No," Elena shook her head. Of all the insane things for Damon to say, it just had to be something like that. "I'm really starting to think you underestimate my feelings for you."

She didn't dare turn over to see what Damon made of that sentence.

"You don't have feelings for me."

"Yes, I do. I may not act like it, but I do. Even if they are more sisterly than anything, they are still there. If you die, then a part of me would die, too." Elena turned on her side, facing him, and watching as his right hand fidgeted around the achy looking hole in his stomach, and how his left hand encircled her own.

He was going to break down, she suddenly realized. Even someone like Damon- who was basically programmed to deal with shit like this- couldn't take all of it in in one night. She saw it in the way he bite down so hard on his lip that blood beaded in its place, and she saw it in the way his eyes took a shiny, glossy quality to it. She never thought it was possible, but Damon was going to cry, and he was trying to damn hard not to that it almost hurt to witness.

"I don't know if anyone told you this, but men sometimes cry, too." She soothed her thumb over his hand, trying to generate as much comfort in her small embrace as possible. It was good for Damon to get rid of these emotions he had been building up. Pretty soon he was going to choke on all of his inhibitions.

Damon used the back of his hand to scrub away angrily at the tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. "What did I do wrong?" he asked suddenly. "I'm the bigger brother; I should be the one taking care of him, and all I can do it sit back and watch as he destroys himself and everyone around him."

Elena shook her head, managing to clear it slightly and also wonder why Damon always blamed himself for things completely out of his control. "You didn't do anything wrong, Damon. It's Klause, and he's the reason we're in this mess. Nothing you did caused this. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

That just seemed to make Damon angrier. He let go of her hand, and used it to rub more of those pesky tears away. "It's always my fault, Elena. Nothing I do or say is ever going to be right, and you know it."

Elena looked at him, really looked at him hard. The saddest part out of all of this was that he believed that. He believed that he was a lost cause that didn't deserve to be fixed. He couldn't be more wrong. If anything, he had earned the right to be fixed more than anyone she knew. She could always count Stefan, too, but she hardly knew him anymore. He was a stranger to her heart.

"Do you really believe that?" Elena shifted slightly, curving herself languidly into Damon's side. There was nothing sexual about this, and there wasn't anything to read into. This was just her being deeply involved in one friend's misery. She was just willing to split this agony with him half and half so he wouldn't collapse under all the pressure. "Do you really believe that you haven't changed?"

"I may have changed on the inside, Elena, but that still doesn't change who I am or what I have done."

Elena was about to say the stupidest thing known to man, and she couldn't give a reason as to why she should even care at this point. "I don't care. I don't care what you are or what you have done. It doesn't matter, not anymore. If you're still alive, then none of it matters to me."

Damon was quiet after that, and when Elena checked his expression, she saw the heavy struggle in his eyes. He was trying unbelievably hard not to read into this. He wanted this to be real, but it was always on another playing field, somewhere he couldn't quite reach not matter how much he wanted to.

Damon wanted nothing more than for her to love him as much as he loved her. But, as far as he could tell, it was never going to happen. Not in this lifetime, at least.

Elena spoke up, her voice creeping towards a happier range. "When I walked in the living room earlier, I wanted some answers that only you could give me."

"Did you find them?" he still sounded choked up.

She sighed, tracing the scar in the hollow of his throat until he shivered and she pulled away, not wanting to push him too far. "No, I didn't. But then I decided that I don't need any answers; they are just right there in front of me."

Her breath hovered over his skin, and Damon wanted nothing more than to just throw her under him and have his way with her. Leave it to Elena to consistently tempt even if he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown and was in an ass-load of pain.

Damon tried not to look down because if he did, then he would get an eyeful of cleavage that he couldn't handle right now. It was bad enough that her body heat was slowly seeping into his own skin, and her fragmented hair was curling over his collarbone where she rested her head. It was bad enough that her curves were pressed almost intimately into his side, and it was bad enough that her hand was ghosting- almost without being aware she was doing it at all, he was sure- along his denim covered lower hip where the tattoo was located.

He was sure that if he had any more blood in his body to spare, it would have gone completely south.

He couldn't even begin to tell how many times he had woken up in a cold sweat, completely aroused, and still reliving the dreams of what Elena did to him. The dreams were not something you could discuss in polite company, and he often wondered if Elena even knew what she did to him.

And even though Damon felt like he had been betrayed by his own flesh and blood- that's because he had been betrayed by his own flesh and blood- and there was still a gaping wound in his side, he still managed to feel happy that Elena was sharing the pain and heartbreak with him. It was all really fucked up if he thought about it hard enough.

"One day, I am going to see the entire tattoo."

If Damon had been shocked before, he was just reeling now. And then it hit him. She was still a little tipsy from all his Bourbon, and all the crazy emotions that were probably racing through her head was sure to have some effect on the words that were coming out of her mouth. She didn't really mean any of these things. Well, she probably meant the other stuff, but sure as hell not the whole naked tattoo part.

Why did it always come back to the damn tattoo? Okay, so he had a tattoo on his pelvis. Big friggin' deal! It wasn't like he had created NASA or something.

Elena knew what she was saying was wrong, but it seemed like there was no longer a filter that was running through her mouth and telling her what she should and shouldn't be saying.

So, Damon just pretended like he had never even heard her say it. He closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come. With Elena there next to him, it was highly likely that he would be doing more tossing and turning than anything.

He didn't even really get to appreciate the fact that she _wanted_ to stay in his bed this time.

When did they both become such a cliché?

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_A/N: And there you have it, folks! Like I said before, I had a crappy weekend and really did not want to write some lovey-dovey chapter that probably would have made me sick to my stomach. I hope you all have a lovely week, and look forward to Halloween; I know I am. Hopefully, I will have the next chapter up sooner than later…And now I need to go to bed…_

_Please review, you generous people, you._


	5. Darkness In The Distance

_A/N: Okay, to start things off, I want to thank you all so much for your amazing reviews. They really inspire me! And I also want to give a big, grand shout-out to __**fallenfairy4**__; she is the sweetest girl around, and her review made my day! (Not to mention that she is an amazing writer.) You go, girl! Anyways, thanks for bearing with me, you guys!_

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_Mistaken Observations: Darkness In The Distance_

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Damon and Elena were both buried in something they didn't even recognize anymore; they were suppressed in something ugly, and something that clawed at them from both the inside out. Whether it was because of the night, many weeks ago, when Damon somehow managed to let his feelings free, or because it was Elena that managed to make the lines even blurrier between them, things were set to an all-time force. Something- or someone- was telling Elena that she should have been embarrassed at how rash she had acted that night. Telling Damon she would see the rest of that damn tattoo? That was ballsy enough in itself. If you added the fact that she was curling up to him while she said it, it was downright indecent and completely immoral. But there were other parts of her, parts she would rather not identify, that simply wanted her to give in to temptation and just fly right off the handle.

This helped in making time move both agonizingly slow, and blaringly fast at the exact same interval, causing Elena to wonder if she was spending these days and nights the way her normal, teenage side would have wanted. Sometimes, mostly at night, she would sit down, and then what seemed like a couple seconds later, she would come to find out that the sun was rising, and hours had passed rather than minutes. It was disconcerting, and she was getting agitated to do at least _something_, anything at all to get her out of this stand-still that had become her life.

Damon, on the other hand, just looked pissed. She could tell by the desperate look on his face that he wanted nothing more than to put a plan in action and actually have it work this time. He never said anything, but Elena could tell he was thinking he had lost his mojo.

Running her fingers through her already mussed hair, Elena sat, perched on an old couch near a large window, watching as slow drips made its way down the glass. It had rained for four days straight, now. This was good; it gave her an actual reason for not wanting to leave the house. She didn't even want to talk to Caroline, which actually concerned her enough to want to call her, but not enough to actually do it. Caroline had her own baggage to lug around. There was no need to add unnecessary weight to the load.

So, Elena just sat, viewing with nervous eyes as Damon etched permanent trails in the hard wood flooring. She couldn't help but notice how this was not the man she had once known. This was someone who looked like he hadn't eaten, slept, or even breathed for that matter, in what seemed like weeks. His hair was almost in even more of a wild disarray than hers was- due to his fidgeting fingers that he couldn't seem to keep still to save his life- and his eyes were raw from rubbing them constantly.

If she didn't know any better, than she would have assumed that he was a stranger in a very familiar body.

But this behavior almost seemed narcotic to her. Damon _had _been devastated after Stefan tried to put a stake through his heart, and he had been sick with all the feelings of heartache he was being put through, but this was something else entirely.

It has started about a week ago. Damon had said he needed to go run an errand (which was strange enough, because he now hated leaving the boarding house almost as much as she did) and she couldn't find an excuse to feed him on why he should not be going anywhere without her. Damon was nothing less than persistent and after very persuasive reasoning from his behalf, she finally just told him to leave if that was what it was going to take to get him to shut up.

Minutes had turned into hours, and those hours soon felt like eternities. She was almost about to fall asleep on his trademark leather couch when she had heard the front door shut with a loud crash. When Damon had walked through the hall and into the living room, the first thing she had noticed was that he was completely wasted…again. He didn't say anything to her, didn't even look at her, and he proceeded to go up to his room.

It didn't take a brain surgeon to know that some shit had gone down wherever his 'errand' had taken him. Asking him about what happened soon proved pointless. She could beg all she wanted; she wasn't going to get the answer.

Stretching her numb limbs, Elena detangled her body from its crunched up position. "Denial will never get you anywhere, Damon."

Damon tried halfheartedly to not understand what she was talking about. If he pretended everything was fine, then everything would stay in his range of view. If he thought about anything too hard, he wouldn't be able to plan his next move.

"I'm not in denial," he managed to roll his eyes, "I just don't have anything to say to you right now."

That was probably true, but it didn't make the fact that he was keeping something from her any less urgent. "Someone once told me that beating around the bush was for pussies."

Damon didn't have the strength to comment on her vulgar language; she had picked up on all of his bad habits. "Well, you're talking to the biggest pussy of them all, so I am therefore allowed to do whatever the hell I want."

Elena turned her head away, forcing the smirk away that would have shown in her eyes if he observed her. It was almost nice to hear Damon snap his words in intent of hurting her. It was difficult to live in such a big house and have it completely surrounded in silence.

When she turned back to look at him, she noticed his scrutiny was set on the door. "If you want to go, then just go. There's not much I can do about it anyway."

Damon hesitated, choosing his next words prudently. "I should be going…but I don't think I can."

Curiosity and fear bubbled in her stomach, flooding all other intense moods. She stood suddenly, but stayed rooted in the same general location. There were the very beginnings of anxiety creeping into Damon's voice, and that was scarier than anything she had encountered in these past couple months.

"What are you talking about?" she asked quietly, "You don't have to go anywhere, Damon. No-one's forcing you."

Gradually, he shook his head, coming to a stop in front of a lamp that flickered infuriatingly. He snapped the switch off, and she watched as part of the room went dark. "I don't think you understand, Elena. I _can't _tell you, and it's killing me."

Elena took a stumbling step forward, intent on getting Damon to spill the meaning behind his ramblings with a careful touch to his shoulder. Before she could even get anywhere near him, the ancient Grandfather clock sounded nosily behind her, causing her to jump unsteadily. Damon paled noticeably at the sound, sucking in a breath and smoothing out his tousled, frayed hair.

"I have to go." He spoke the words in a barely-there whisper, creating the act of Elena having to move forward to catch his words. The pain in his blue eyes was easy to see, and even though he said he needed to go, she could tell that he wanted to do the exact opposite. He looked like he wanted to flee in the other direction.

This just confused Elena further. Damon could do whatever he wanted, and if he didn't want to go, then he didn't have to. Why, if he looked so terrified of leaving, did he also look so hell-bent on getting to where ever it was he needed to go? It didn't add up in her eyes. Maybe she was just over-analyzing things like she always did. This probably meant nothing, right?

Elena only could watch as he shoved his feet into black boots, picked up his leather jacket, and with one last long, lingering look towards her, walked out the door and into the pouring rain. The way he ambled down the path to his car was really what got to her. He wasn't using any super-vamp speed at all. Elena knew that he hated getting wet almost more than she did. And his walk was all wrong; Damon strutted as proudly as a male peacock showing off his feathers when he travelled any short amount of distance (it was just what came naturally to him), and to see him do this action now, it almost made him look like he was in a dream, wandering aimlessly to no-where in particular.

He looked like he was being pulled by an invisible string.

He looked like he was being…compelled.

Realization hit her hard; she almost careened back from the strong force. There was no time to hesitate or doubt herself. She needed to stop Damon _now_. Elena didn't even glance back to grab an umbrella- or even shoes- to shield herself from the pounding of the rain currently wreaking havoc outside of the four walls, there was simply no time to. If Damon was actually compelled, and not just being an ass to scare her, then there would be no way of stopping him. She knew this much courtesy of Stefan.

She didn't know what she was doing, but it didn't matter. All she really knew was that Damon could not get in that car and drive away from her.

"Damon!" Elena screamed at the top of her lungs, tossing open the door and hurling herself down the stairs, the rain and sleet burning and clouding her vision. She had lived in Mystic Falls well enough to know that this wasn't just a mere shower. This was a full-on storm.

She tried again, viewing helplessly as Damon didn't even glimpse at her, and continued to open the door to his car. "Damon, wait! I have to tell you something! You can't leave me here alone!"

Elena didn't know how it happened, but this actually made Damon falter. As water dripped down his face, plastering his hair to damp skin, his grip loosened on the handle of the door. His eyes still had that ghosted over feeling that Elena was nearly accustomed to now, but knowing the reason behind that made her skin crawl.

The rain was making its way down the ground in rivers, but she managed to keep her footing as she sprinted over to Damon. She wasn't breathing hard because the run had made her tired- his car was only about ninety feet from the front door- but her breath had completely vanished when she had figured out this dire situation, and getting it to re-enter proved difficult.

She messily pushed back the wet hair matting her face- how did she get so drenched this fast? - and tugged on Damon's hand. Maybe if he knew that she cared and looked after him, he wouldn't feel so forced to leave.

"Wait, stop. I can't let you leave with me, Elena. You won't be coming back if you do." There was a silent war being fought behind Damon's eyes when he spoke.

What was he talking about? She was barely even aware of the pressure he was putting on her shoulders, using his palms to scoot her in the direction of the boarding house once again.

Elena pushed him back, slapping his hands, and telling him to get the hell off of her. She couldn't tell if there were tears running down her face, or if it was just the water carelessly falling from the sky. Did it even matter at this point? In the end, she knew this almost certainly, Damon would end up saying good-bye, pulled by whatever idea Klause had planted in his mind.

The name caused white-hot fury to attack her nervous system. She wanted to hit Damon with all the force in her body for getting himself in this situation.

She got up in his face, using her right hand to yank his grip off the knob to the door. If there was ever a time to really resist compulsion, it was now. "You have about ten seconds to tell what the hell is going on. I won't let you leave until you do."

Ripping his hand away from hers, Damon let out an agonized groan. "I can't, Elena! If I told you, then I would have to kill you!"

The power behind his voice startled her to the core, and she was instantly glad that the boarding house was not surrounded by busy-body neighbors. He wasn't messing around this time. He meant what he said; if he told her what was going on, then he would have to kill her.

It was Klaus's orders, after all. If anyone disobeyed him the blood would be on their hands only.

"Did Klause do this to you? Did he tell you that you had to do this?" She still wasn't sure on what _it _was exactly, but if it came from the hybrid himself, then she knew it couldn't be good.

Damon didn't have to answer her question, partly because his expression said it all, and also because she _knew_. She knew that Klause was the only one capable of this. He had been the only Original around here in decades, and only Originals themselves could compel other vampires.

Damon tried to open his door again, but Elena slammed it shut. A small part of her knew that if she pushed him too far in his unstable, under-the-influence-of- Klause state, then he could just rip her hand completely off, and be on his way. But she didn't think that he could do that even if he _was _being compelled by something much stronger than him.

He was actually looking physically pained at this point, like defying Klause resembled shoving tiny slivers of wood under his skin, and Elena knew she had to act fast.

If she didn't, then he was going to snap.

"Just take me with you," she said in a desperate, raw voice, "Klause will never even have to know."

At Damon's desperate shake of the head, she knew that he couldn't do that.

"Please, Damon. I can't lose you. Just please, hear me out."

Damon's eyes snapped to her attention. "Not Klause." He mumbled unintelligibly.

Elena didn't know how he managed it, but he was actually repelling bits and pieces of the compulsion. It was the greatest feat she had ever seen Damon accomplish.

But, not Klause?

A certain type of dread filled her body and mind; a type of horror that left her hollowed out and unable to comprehend completely.

"Rebekah," she whispered. The name alone was enough to rile her up for the rest of her life. She _hated _the blonde bitch with a passion. At first, it was only because she was related to the one man who had ruined her life, but now? Now, it was personal.

Her fingers suddenly became animated, trying with useless force to pull Damon away from his car and back to the safety of his own house. She tugged as hard as she could, pulled at his jacket, and scratched at his bare skin, but nothing seemed to work. Hysteria crept up her throat as Damon opened the door one more time. This time, Elena couldn't stop the massive force coming from his hand.

Maybe it was the rain swirling around her eyes and successfully making her brain a touch foggier than she would have liked, or maybe it was the unhinging realization that Damon would go to Rebekah, be compelled to do something horrendous that he would no doubt regret later, and simply just turn back into the Old Damon.

Or even worse, he could just be dead.

It could have been any of those things, but there was something in the back of her mind that was saying she simply couldn't take to watching Damon get hurt anymore.

In a matter of seconds, Elena had slipped between him and the car he was trying to get into, bringing him closer and closer to her until their hips were pressed intimately against one another's. Elena was hoping that if he focused on her- and nothing but her- then he would find that place in his mind where she knew he could turn away from it all.

The Originals weren't going to win; not this time, at least.

The shock in Damon's eyes was present, if not a bit dimmed, and Elena pressed harder into his wet, solid body.

Damon's voice was like a caress on her lips. "You have to let me go. I'll come back, I promise."

When it was evident to Damon that Elena was not going to back down, he let out a low snarl, pushing her away until she stumbled onto the sodden grass with a thump.

The look in her eyes was almost too much to bear. She looked hurt, betrayed, and if he wasn't mistaken, a little bit aroused.

But, she didn't understand. He _had _to do this. If he didn't do what Rebekah wanted, then she had meant it when she said she would make sure Elena died a slow, sure death. Damon wasn't risking that, no matter what the cost was.

He almost wrenched the hinges to the driver's side of the Mustang off in his attempt to get away. If she did any more of that thing with her hips, then she could be confident he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. He would simply be a puddle at her feet.

Elena scrambled up, furious with being pushed around by Damon of all people. "If you leave," she started in a slow, threatening voice, "Then I will hate you forever."

It was a low blow to Damon, and he almost stopped- almost. But, then Rebekah's warning rang throughout the part in his mind that wasn't confused. He was doing this to protect Elena. Why couldn't she just see that for what it was?

Damon situated himself in his seat, starting the car with a roar, and slamming the door to close him in. Deliberately, he shook his head. "No, you won't. You've already tried that once before."

And with that…he was just gone, revving the engine to the point where she flinched as a natural reflex, and gliding down the road like it wasn't possibly the last time she would see him. Elena had never felt so defeated and unconfident about herself in her eighteen years of life.

And Damon was right. She could never hate him; she couldn't even hate him for a minute.

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_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…._

These moments were going by agonizingly slow for Elena. It had been five hours, thirty-seven minutes, and ten seconds ago since Damon had left her- not that she had been counting- and she felt that if she waited by any longer, the air would start to suffocate her.

She was such a train wreck with her jumbled up nerves, she had just finally convinced herself that Damon wasn't going to come back. This- very pitiful- act forced her mind to think of all the good times that had had together- and the bad times-, and all the things about him that she knew and others didn't.

She spoke the words almost like a pray from inside her head, where she knew they would be safe.

Black hair, blue eyes, compact, only slightly taller than her, capable of witty banter, snaky attitude, charming, unpredictable, could make the devil himself laugh, and couldn't stop the first thought in his head from coming out his mouth, hyperactive, tattoo on his lower hip, seductive, dangerous…dangerously attractive?

Elena could have gone on forever, thinking back to when she had first met him. He was the cocky, very handsome stranger in a black T-shirt, black jeans, and boots. _He _was the damned brother.

Oh, how things had changed.

All she could do was hold onto one of Damon's glasses filled to the top with Bourbon with a vice like grip, and hope that the ticking of a nearby clock wouldn't force her hand to do something rash. She wasn't sure if she was holding the alcohol because she was going to drink it, or if she was holding it to bring back memoirs of Damon. This was what he was doing the most to occupy his time lately- drinking, drinking, and more drinking. She knew how he felt. All she wanted to do nowadays was get smashed until she couldn't even recall her own name. And yet, she couldn't make herself drink the burning liquid. It somehow felt wrong, like she was doing something that she and Damon should have been doing together.

The thought of this made the back of Elena's eyes burn, and she looked around the room with a helpless abandon. In the outside world- which really felt like miles away from her point of view- it was still raining profoundly. It was such a horrible day to go along with her even more horrible mood. She was essentially questioning whether she could just go outside and literally drown her sorrows away.

The weight of the glass was becoming heavier and heavier in her hand, and she set it down with a grimace. Allowing her legs to fold out from under her stung, but it needed to be done. She couldn't just sit here and wait for something to happen. Even as she did get up, there was really no point in the act of doing so. She had no clue where Damon was or what he was getting himself into. If she had known something, then she simply would have followed him. She was getting up, but there was nowhere to go.

This deafening silence lasted for another hour, and pretty soon the world was pitch dark outside. The only way Elena could tell that it was still raining was by the slight pitter-patter on the roof. The inside of the house was just as equally dark due to the lack of lighting being turned on at sun-down.

It was between the time Elena was pacing in front of the fire she had made earlier and wondering if Damon was ever going to make it back, when she heard the distant roar of a car in the background. She didn't know how she had heard it over the rain, but she guessed that is was because she had been waiting for almost seven hours to hear that type of noise. It was ironic really. She used to hate the sound of any loud sports car. She thought they were obnoxious, and yet here she was, praying that she would somehow hear the racket fill her ears again. Maybe she had changed as much as Damon had.

When Elena's head snapped up from the unexpected clamor, her heart started beating faster and her face broke into a grin.

Damon was back. He hadn't broken his promise!

She was frozen for a moment, unable to believe that the sound of the car _was _really Damon's; she knew by the way the car seemed to stop right outside of the boarding house. All at once, joy rebounded inside of her. With quick movements, she bounded over to the door, and flicked on the porch light. When she stepped outside, her face was instantly covered in a light mist that made her eyelashes stick to her cheeks when she blinked, and her clothes hung uncomfortably at the hips.

Careful not to slip, Elena went as fast as she could while still being safe, and turned the sharp corner. Despite the darkness in the distance, she could still see perfectly fine in front of her.

She came to a sudden halt, terror filling her stomach and chest for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. It was Damon's car and Damon _was _in it- much to her obvious relief- but it was the state that he was in that had her wanting to rip her hair off and sit and weep for a good few hours.

Damon usually painted a pretty picture with his physical looks- anyone with eyes could see that- but this was plainly a different story. His hair was no longer in his usual disarray, but caked with what looked like dried blood, mud, and various other things that she would have been happy without noticing. There were tiny, patchwork holes carved into his blue shirt were red stains bordered them, and when the wind moved the fabric, she could see that the holes in his shirt also matched the holes in his skin. What worried her most about this was that none of those wounds were healed. His lip was split open, blood casually dripping down the skin and onto his neck. It was usually his victim's blood running down his face, and to see that it was now his made a sad pang go off in her heart.

The worst of the damage- from what she could see, at least- was revealed as he achingly stepped out of his car. Blood covered both of his thighs, were it looked like he had been staked repeatedly, and where the wound from Stefan's attack weeks earlier had healed over, there was now a newer, fresher one it it's place. This one seemed even closer to his heart, if that was even possible.

When Damon turned his head, wincing with blurred and dull, blue eyes, she saw savage bite marks marring the soft patch of skin. She knew the human body well enough to say that his Carotid artery had been successfully ripped out. This was all at a good distance away, and Elena couldn't even imagine what he must have looked like from up close.

Damon still hadn't noticed her gaping at him, one hand covering her mouth in awe and frustration, and she knew that he must have really had the sense knocked out of him. How was he even still standing? How was there even any blood left in his body? He looked like he was about to collapse on the damp pavement.

As Damon started to sway, clutching the hood of his car for support, Elena made her move. She tried to step slowly, not wanting to make Damon even dizzier than he already was, but soon panic overtook her, and the natural instinct to launch herself into his arms was becoming rampant.

Damon turned to the sound of her fast approaching footsteps, and she embraced him as carefully as she could manage, still exceeding to pour her heart and soul into the touch. She didn't want to start anymore bleeding than there already was, but she was pretty sure that she did anyway.

Damon grunted lightly either out of pain or just the sheer force of having her in his arms. She guessed that it was a pitiful combination of the two. He didn't return the embrace, and before she could get overly defensive about that, she noticed that his left arm was hanging at an odd angle. She cringed, cautious not to brush against it in her haste.

Burying her nose against the good part of his neck, Elena breathed in the scent that was blood, carnage, and the musky, sour smell of dirt. She felt his body give another jerk in her arms, and she immediately placed her hands on his hips, trying to steady him.

Blood was now smudged against the bare bits of her arms, and she felt the metallic tang of it against her mouth, most likely coming from Damon's chewed on neck. The rain quickly washed it away afterwards, but she still felt like she was the one who had grime covering every inch of her body.

From the corners of her eyes, Elena could see that, even under her support, Damon would not be able to walk anymore anytime soon. She let him collapse against the side of his car with an incoherent grumble, and she followed suit. Her legs felt like jelly all of the sudden and she realized that is was because of the emotional overload she was now receiving.

With careful fingers, she wiped away bits of dirt and water from his face, avoiding the purplish bruise that splotched against his cheekbone. His eyes stared forward, blank and without any emotion. He didn't looked scared or angry or even the tiniest bit sad. He just looked like _nothing._

She slid down the slick door of the car, and sat on a puddle. She suddenly felt like she needed to vomit. _What if he's still compelled? _She thought. _What if there is nothing I can do this time?_

"Damon," she spoke, her voice scratchy from hours without use. "Damon, say something." It was more of a demand, but it would have to do at the moment. She didn't have anything else.

Elena was sure that after about a minute of silence, that he didn't even hear her. When he slowly shook his head, she instantly knew that he did hear; he just didn't have the voice to respond.

An anomalous sense of foreboding seemed to caress the air. Tonight was an eye- opener for Elena, and hopefully for Damon, too. Well, if Damon even knew what was going on right now, then she assumed that it would be something he could get a life lesson out of.

Tonight had showed her that no-one was safe. No-one was ever going to be safe for a long time now. The calm before the storm had now evolved into something bigger, into something frightening that chased away all good things about life.

Either way she looked at it, she knew one thing for positive.

She was screwed.

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_A/N: Well, there you go! Is anybody wondering what went down with Damon? You are? Well, so am I! I really have no idea at this point, but you should be informed next chapter…Along with some Damon/Elena moments. Last night's Delena scenes were awesome, right? And Elena was totally jealous of Damon 'flirting' with Rebekah. Does anybody else notice how Elena always seems to stare at Damon's lips when he talks, or is that just me? I'm pretty sure it's not…_

_Make sure to leave comments! The good, the bad, the ugly, it really doesn't matter to me!_


	6. Starting At The End

_A/N: Well, this chapter was extremely hard to write in this amount of time. I had it all typed out, and then my Dad just to had tamper with my laptop, and he ended up deleting what I had come up with. I cried for about an hour before I could start all over again …Also, I want to give a shout-out to __**shortybabygirl2009 **__for leaving me a great review that had me smiling hours after I read it, to __**fallenfairy4 **__for leaving me yet another great review, and also to __**BA-VampireKitten **__for very nicely telling me that Klaus does not have an 'e' at the end. (Sometimes I can be a bit of a nit-wit.)_

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_Mistaken Observations: Starting At The End_

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"Are you ever going to answer my question?" Elena sat on the bathroom counter, wringing her hands nervously at her stomach. After all this time, she was still waiting for Damon to start spilling about his torture session with Rebekah. So far, he hadn't been very successful in doing so. All he seemed to give her was vague answers that usually just brought up more questions. He really wasn't helping her burning case of curiosity at all.

From behind the dark curtain, Damon took a notably large sigh. "There is nothing to talk about, Elena."

Had he completely lost his mind? Had he really not just shown up after almost seven hours of being absent, covered in blood, and various assortments of holes punctured into his body?

"What do you mean there's nothing to talk about?" Elena was getting frustrated now. "There is everything to talk about, Damon. You know me; I'm not going to stop until I get some answers."

The shower curtain rustled, and Damon poked his head out. "I also know that you can be a real bitch when you want something."

Elena resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him. She was peeved, if not a bit miffed at his choice of words. He was the only person she knew that could literally be on the verge of death only a short time ago, and still gave the decency to poke fun at her. Some people were just never taught a lesson.

And she knew- everyone basically knew- that she could most definitely be a bitch when she wanted something. In her old life, the one where her old parents were still alive and well, it was one of her most notorious traits. She was almost as catty as Caroline at the time, and that was something she wasn't very proud of.

From within her thoughts, she absently heard Damon fuss with something behind the covering of the curtains. She had completely convinced herself that the only reason she was in the bathroom while Damon was getting rid of his many types of grime, was that she needed answers- which it seemed she would not be getting anytime soon- and that she was still afraid he was going to topple over from lack of blood. He _had _to at least be thirsty. She hadn't seen him eat in weeks. And in less he was doing it in private, she highly doubted that he actually had indulged in the basic necessities he lived from.

Elena looked down at her toes and heard Damon scoff. "Yeah," she heard him say. "Don't have anything to say now, do you?"

Leaning back, Elena thumped her head twice against the mirror. It quaked slightly, rattling her brain into mixed-up thoughts and emotions. "You know if you tell me, then you might actually feel better. It never worked for you before to keep things bottled up like this."

Damon had no comment to this, but she could practically hear the eye-roll he gave in response.

Steam billowed from the top of the shower, causing Elena to shift almost uncomfortably in her spot. It wasn't just any day she could say she practically watched Damon Salvatore bathe. She sighed again. This was just a little much for her.

"You might not like what you hear." Damon spoke softly behind the spray of water. "You might regret ever asking me what happened."

Elena shrugged her shoulders delicately. "I'm not saying I won't. You just have to understand how hard it was for me to convince myself that you were going to die. If I don't have answers, then how can I prevent it from happening again?"

Damon flipped off the water with a 'snap'. The silence that was given out in return was ringing in her ears. "You wouldn't have been able to stop what happened tonight even if you tried. Your only a human, Elena. There's not much you _can_ do." He cleared his throat. "You might want to close your eyes."

Shaking her head, Elena bit the inside of her cheek. If she were to shut her eyes, the tears gathering there would have fallen. It was probably just because it was around 2:00 in the morning, and she was over-tired, but she could also blame it on the fact that what Damon had said hurt her tender feelings.

The sound of the shower curtains being pulled back reached to her just in time, and she carefully averted her gaze. When she looked back over to the shower, Damon was standing there with a maroon towel wrapped around his waist.

Taking an internal breath, Elena composed herself, forcing the tears to go away. She ran a nervous hand over her shirt, swiveling her body until she was facing him, and her legs were tangling over the edge of the counter. She tried her best attempt at a smile. "Feeling any better?"

Damon shook his head, running wearied fingers through his dripping hair. "Nope, not really. I still feel like I've been stabbed repeatedly, and part of my man-hood was brutally ripped away."

"That's because it was."

Damon smiled bitterly. "Details." He studied her closely then. "Are _you _feeling any better? Should I be worried about any Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or anything like that?"

_Was_ she okay? Did she not want to break down right now? Not exactly. Her world was still crumbling down in ruins. Stefan was still gone, Klaus was still running rampant, and Rebekah seemed to have a knack for torturing (somewhat) innocent vampires.

But, she just forced a smile again. "No, I'm perfectly fine."

Damon chuckled and gave her a knowing smile, wagging a finger in her direction. "You always were a horrible liar. Did you honestly expect me to believe that?"

Elena hopped off the counter. She grimaced, defeated. "I was hoping that you would have too much on your mind to notice. Guess it didn't work that well, did it?"

He smirked, his answer plainly written all over her face. Damon could simply read her like a book. He knew her too well to think otherwise. It was time like these that she wished she was a stranger to him.

"Guess I'll take that as a no." she muttered, and then gestured to his state of undress. "I should let you get dressed. Good night, Damon."

She moved towards the door, sighing in relief when she could breathe clearly without the heady scent of steam and Damon's natural musk invading her nostrils. But before she could decide whether or not she was going to sleep on the couch or force herself into Stefan's bed (something she really didn't want to stoop to), Damon called out to her.

"Elena," his voice sounded strained. "Wait."

She stopped in her tracks, turning around to face him with a pained expression on her expression. She tried to keep her focus on him, but his intense exterior innerved her, and she quickly looked away.

In front of her, Damon took a deep breath. "I'll tell you everything if you really want to know, but I have to warn you when I say that you're not going to like it."

Despite the tension in the room, Elena still felt gratitude towards the vampire in front of her. After all the horror they had both been through these past few months, it was nice to know that Damon still could tell her the problems he had been through. He didn't know why he gave into her, but all she really had to do was flash those brown orbs, smile, and ask sweetly, and he would willingly jump off a bridge for her.

It didn't matter that Elena was just a human. All she needed was the complete authority over Damon to have the real power of the two.

Elena couldn't decide whether this was necessarily a good thing or not.

.

.

Damon sat next to Elena. There had to be a certain way of explaining something like this. It wasn't just a topic that you could randomly start blabbing about.

He could start with the beginning, from his first meeting with Rebekah, or he could start with the time where Stefan and Klause played their part in all of this- and they did play a big part. Or he could just start at the end, and rip it off like a Band-Aid. He preferred just to make this as painless as possible, but if Elena wanted to do this a certain way, then he would let her take that route.

Elena sat on the very edge of the couch, looking anywhere but him, and then finally just settled her gaze on her fingertips.

Damon clasped his hands together. "Where do you want me to begin? I can make it short if you like."

"No," she shook her head, raising a hand in his direction. "I want to know everything. Just start from the very beginning."

Dammit. He was hoping that she wouldn't say that. He wasn't good with these one-on-one heart-to-heart conversations, especially with tired, over-emotional women. He tried not to groan. This was going to be a lot longer conversation than he had anticipated. Well, he had to start at some point; it might as well be right now.

"We all know Rebekah, right?" That was a stupid thing to start with. Of course Elena knew who Klaus' little blonde minion was.

Elena noticeably grimaced in response. "Unfortunately."

"Right," he smiled. "Well, when I went to town a couple weeks ago, I approached her. I don't really even know why I did it. Maybe I did it because I thought it was Caroline from behind, but all I knew what that I needed to talk to her for some reason. I couldn't even stop myself from doing it. She just seemed like someone I needed to talk to, which is weird because I hate talking to people."

Elena frowned at this. She didn't look too happy at the picture his words were painting.

"When she figured out who I was, she started acting really odd. She kept on talking about how she needed me to do something for her, and that Klaus wanted to talk to me." He scowled. "She wasn't very subtle about it either. She was even more annoying than Caroline herself, so I naturally started to walk away. But when I tried to do this, there was a part of me that literally couldn't. It was almost like she had me under compulsion, but I wasn't under it at all. Do you get what I mean?"

Damon stopped, seeing if Elena was following. She waved a hand, indicating that he should continue.

"So, during the time I was trying to figure out why the hell I couldn't just walk away from her, she started to lead me into this building that was near The Grill." Damon stopped and blew out a long breath. If he was even capable of blushing, than his whole face would have been aflame. "I guess she was kind of trying to seduce me or something, but all I remember was her saying a date, a time, and a building number. I didn't even have a clue where this building was, but she still said that it was extremely important for me to go."

Coughing lightly, Elena cut in. "She didn't, like, rape you or anything, did she?"

Even though this conversation was supposed to be a series as possible, Damon still found the humor in it to laugh. "No. No, of course not. Well, if she did, I certainly don't remember it."

Elena shrugged, glancing back to her hands, and turning a pretty shade of pink. "It just seems like something a hybrid would do."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because I am pretty sure that Klaus goes around raping Stefan in his spare time."

Elena gave him a disapproving glance. "Just finish your story before I walk away."

"Alright, so as you know, the rest of the following weekends flew by without any hiccups. But it wasn't until I went to the bar after about twenty days that I realized something was wrong in the building. It was almost like the atmosphere had changed, like it was suddenly more charged and bitter. I tried to shake off the feeling as best as I could, but when I felt someone tap my shoulder, I knew I was fucked. I guess you can probably tell what happened after that. Stefan kept on talking some crap about how Klaus had 'big plans for me', and then he staked me like the obnoxious, teenage Ripper he is."

"But that means that Stefan wasn't really trying to kill you in the first place. If Klaus has 'big plans', then he kind of needs you alive to do that." Elena clucked her tongue. "What does that mean? What kinds of plans does Klaus have? I'm guessing they can't be good."

Damon sighed. "I'm trying to get to that part." Lounging back into the couch, he rested his head against the black leather. "When the day came, this was actually yesterday as you know, the compulsion kicked in at super speed. I knew the time I was supposed to go, and that I couldn't be late, but I still didn't know the building. All I knew was that I needed to drive." Damon stopped to smirk. "And then you had to come and try to save the day, which I really should have expected earlier, and I was under strict orders that if you interfered, you would have to die."

"And Rebekah was the one to tell you that? She told you that you had to kill me if I got in the way?" Elena almost couldn't believe that. "What did I ever do to her?"

Damon looked at her, his brow furrowed. "You mean beside wearing her magic necklace from ninety years ago, and basically stealing her man? Nothing, absolutely nothing."

To this, Elena had no remark. She just sat in stunned silence. Great, now she had yet another unwilling fan that was going to try to rip her throat out when given the chance.

Damon continued, the words flying from his lips like they were well practiced. "When I left, I felt so horrible about pushing you down like a five year old that I actually started to turn around…but that also meant that I would have to kill you, and if you haven't noticed already, that is absolutely the last thing I want to do. So, I just tried to keep my cool and kept driving. I drove for about an hour before I knew that I needed to stop at this abandoned warehouse I had never even seen before in my life. I didn't even see any other cars around, so I figured that it would be okay to just go inside."

Elena turned to him, bringing her legs up to the couch and crossing them. "I'm guessing that it wasn't okay to go in there."

From beside her, Damon scoffed. "Biggest understatement of the year. But I guess, in the end, it was unavoidable. I should have seen this coming earlier; it was only a matter of time."

"Was there anything in the warehouse?" Elena was almost afraid of what the answer would be. Whatever was in there had to be what caused Damon's severe wounds.

"There was about thirty people in their total. They were all male, except for Rebekah, and maybe Stefan." Damon stopped to laugh at his own personal joke. "Klaus was there, too, and they all just seemed like they were waiting for me to do something. It wasn't until Klaus came up to me and told me I had to fight."

"To fight?" Elena questioned. "To fight who?"

"Everyone. I had to fight everyone in that room until I either killed them or I dropped from exhaustion."

Her heart seemed to jump into her throat. "Even Klaus? Even Stefan."

Damon nodded, bringing his knuckles to his mouth in careful concentration. "And so I did. I fought them until I practically threw up over the bodies I had killed. It wasn't exactly the ideal way to spend my day."

Throughout all of this, Elena was still getting more questions than answers. "I don't get any of this though. Why? Why would Klaus make you do something like that? He already has Stefan, why would he need to take you?"

"Because he wanted to see if I was strong enough; he wanted to see if I would break." Damon stood, striding over to the wet bar beside the couch and pouring himself a hearty drink. He took a sip, looking at her over the top of his glass.

She stood also, stretching her legs and lightly stepping next to Damon. "I'm probably sounding like a broken record at the point, but I am still really confused. Why the hell is it any of Klaus' business as to how strong you are?"

"This is the part you're probably not going to like." Damon paused, using his drink as an excuse not to talk. He was taking his time with it, too.

Frustrated, Elena took the drink and slammed it down on the counter. "Why did he need to know these things, Damon? I'm not playing around anymore. You better tell me." Her voice was excruciatingly aware that she was not going to like this at all.

Damon gulped. "Because he wants to turn me."

Elena had a feeling she already knew what this meant, but she asked anyway. Maybe if she hoped enough, it wouldn't be true. "Turn you into what?"

"What else could he turn me into, Elena? He wants to turn me into a hybrid."

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"Klause wants to do _what _with _whom?"_

Elena didn't know how she managed it, but Caroline always seemed to make things her business. She didn't even like Damon, and yet here she was, defending his honor like he was some white knight in shining armor. Elena really couldn't blame her though. What she could blame was the bottle of liquor Caroline was now holding gingerly. She was drunk, and it wasn't even 7:00 yet. This was more like the pre-vampire Caroline. This was the Caroline that thought partying was going to be her way of making a living.

"I mean, I know Damon is attractive and everything, but unless Klaus is gay, then I don't really see why he needs him."

Elena rolled her eyes. The questions Caroline had been asking were limited down to, 'But why Damon?', and then to, 'Do you think Klaus is gay or just Bi-sexual?' It could have just been the alcohol burning through her system, but Caroline seemed quite serious when she asked them. Is that what she usually thought about in that blonde head of hers?

Elena sighed. Apparently none of the answers she had given Caroline were good enough. "We've been through this before, Car. I don't know why Klaus needs him. In plus, we don't even know if he will go through with turning Damon. It could just be an empty threat. It seems like most vampires just bluff whenever they get the chance."

Caroline stopped pacing and eyed Elena wearily. "Elena," she said in a knowing tone. "Klaus is a conniving hybrid douche. Of course he will turn Damon if he says he will. There's no use trying to convince yourself that he won't."

For the most part, Caroline was right. Elena _had _tried convincing herself out of way too many things this past year.

She had tried to convince herself that Stefan was still not on human blood during the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant, she had convinced herself that Damon did not have feelings for her, she had actually succeeded in convincing herself that Klaus was not real, she had- just until recently- convinced herself that Stefan still had some humanity left in his body, and now she was trying to talk herself into Klaus being a liar. But if it was one thing Elena knew about evil people, it was that they never lied or broke a promise. To add the fact that he was evil _and _a hybrid didn't really help her case.

Elena tugged harshly at one of Caroline's loose thread on her throw pillow; it was a good tension reliever. "I'm just a bucket load of denial, aren't I?"

Caroline huffed, sprawling herself on her big bed. "Do you want the truth or something that will make you feel better about yourself?" Giggling, she dodged the pillow that was promptly thrown at her head. "Sorry," she muttered. "I'll try to keep my comments to myself."

As it turned out, the only good thing that came out of a severely drunk Caroline was that she always spoke the truth, whether it was the good, the bad, or just the plain ugly. Even though Elena didn't want to hear what a stick in the mud she was, she knew that it was true. She was at least glad that someone in her life could just be honest for once. There were more two-faced people than there were vampires in Mystic Falls.

Caroline pushed herself up on her elbows, tipping her bottle back. "When did our lives become so fucked up? I know we're hot and all, but I think the supernatural is a little _too _attracted to us. When was the last time we had some fun, anyway?"

"Depends on what type of fun you are implying. Do you mean the drunk, loud fun or the crazy, drunk, and loud fun?"

Caroline smirked. "Is there really a difference?"

No, there actually wasn't. Back then, fun was just fun anyway you played it. It was usually just Caroline and Elena- Bonnie disapproved of partying- that would get into the most trouble. It didn't matter to them though; they loved every minute of it. The night would eventually end up with one of Elena's parents coming to get them.

"Do you remember when we would make a game out of hiding from your Mom?" Elena laughed, recalling Caroline's Mom going ballistic when she found out how wasted they usually were.

"Yup," Caroline smiled. "But it was pretty much pointless. She found us every time."

"I think we were probably too drunk to care."

Caroline finished off her drink, smiling down at Elena who was currently balled near the foot of her bed. "Always were."

There was a comfortable silence between them for a good two minutes. Elena knew that both she and Caroline were thinking about the same things. They were reliving the good ol' times when Elena's parents were still alive, and the only supernatural they heard about was around the campfire. They were young, care-free, and full of life, and ready to explore the world. Trying to defeat handsome hybrids was not supposed to be part of the equation.

"You know what I just noticed?" Caroline spoke suddenly, cutting into Elena's thoughts like a knife.

Elena got up and made her way over to where Caroline was lying. She joined her, looking up at her pretty, blue ceiling. "What?"

"All the things that have happened to us this past year and a half make our old life seem almost…boring. I think that we are much more exciting now. Well, at least _I'm _more exciting. I'm a vampire, what do you got?"

_A lunatic boyfriend? _Elena thought. _An evil hybrid that wants my blood to create more evil hybrid minions? Or what about an insanely attractive vampire that loves me? _If she wasn't the most thrilling person to know, she was most definitely the busiest.

"Hey," Elena lightly slapped Caroline on the shoulder. "_I_ think I am very exciting. You can even ask Damon. He would agree with me."

"Please, Damon would eat his own arm off if you told him to. I don't really think his vote counts."

Elena didn't know why this statement bothered her so much, but it did. It wasn't like she wanted to have all-mighty power over any vampire that breathed. It just so happened that anything that was un-dead either wanted her only to use her for their own personal gain, to munch on, or just to want plain dead. She didn't even think she was that appealing! Why was everyone so hung up over her?

Elena tried to keep her voice light, and act like she didn't want to strangle Caroline until her head popped off. "I don't know what you mean, Care. It's not like he does anything I tell him. You probably already know that. If you tell him one thing, then he is almost guaranteed to do the other."

"No," Caroline corrected. "He doesn't do anything anyone tells him _except _for you. You should try it out sometime. Ask him to do something really dumb, and see if he does it. I bet that would come in handy."

Elena's hands fidgeted on her stomach, folding and unfolding. "Care, has anyone ever told you that you are unquestionably ridiculous?"

"I've been told time to time, but then they usually tell me how much they love me afterwards." Caroline shook out her blonde hair with clumsy fingers. "Apparently, I'm adorable."

"Who told you that?" Elena grunted. "It couldn't have been Damon." Elena knew Damon well enough to know that he never gave out compliments…except to Elena herself. Oh God, maybe Caroline was right. She probably should have started listening to her a _long _time ago.

Caroline looked at her from the corners of her blue, glazed over eyes. "I'm not quite sure, but I think the only compliment Damon gave me was that I made a good blood-bag. He might have said I was good in bed once or twice…or was it three times?" She waved a dismissing hand. "It doesn't really matter anymore. It's all in the past."

Elena wished she could brush off stuff like Caroline could. She was always the first one to get over a situation, no matter how disastrous it seemed. If she could just forgive and forget, then maybe she wouldn't feel like she was betraying Stefan every time she looked at Damon.

"Do you have anything left to drink? I think it's about time for me to get drunk. You're starting to make some sense again."

Caroline grinned, getting up from her spot on the bed, and making her way over to her closet. Opening the door, Elena quickly noticed what she was doing. Caroline always- even when she was younger- hid the things she never wanted her mother to see in her trusty closet and in a box under her bed. It was obviously where her alcohol was stored.

Elena gratefully took the bottle from Caroline, screwed the top off, and took a swig. She savored the burning sensation in the back of her throat and the warmth that tingled throughout her body. If there was anything at all the she missed about her old life, it was how easy it was to consume alcohol. She wasn't necessarily proud about it, she just longed for it every now and again.

"Was there an actual reason you wanted me to come over? It couldn't just have been to get me drunk and talk about how gay you think hybrids are." Elena took another slow sip from her bottle.

Caroline crossed her legs and carefully avoided Elena's eyes, keeping her gaze on her fluffy, yellow slippers. "Well, there was something I kind of needed to tell you. And I think I might just be drunk enough to actually say this without running away afterwards."

Elena cringed. She didn't really think she wanted to hear what Drunk Caroline had to say. "Do I even want to know? Should I just start leaving now?"

Across from her, Caroline hastily shook her head. "No, it's not bad enough for you to do that. At least, I hope not."

"Then how awful can it be?"

Caroline raised her eyebrows and took a huffed breath. Almost to herself, she said, "Pretty awful, depending on the way you personally take it. Maybe I shouldn't even tell you."

"No," Elena quickly shot out her hand, gripping Caroline's elbow. "Please, just tell me. I'll go crazy if you don't."

"Well, not that this is any of my business or anything, but…" Caroline stuttered again.

"Just spit it out, Care."

"Fine," she puffed. "I think that you and Damon should sleep together."

Mouth open wide, Elena could only stare in amazement at her neurotic friend. Caroline really had- in all senses of the word- lost her freaking mind.

Was she really the only sane one in this whole entire universe?

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_A/H: What the hell, Caroline? You can't just go around telling people who they can and can't sleep with! Didn't your Mother ever tell you that? Well, let's just say that this chapter was extremely hard to write. I really hope that I didn't disappoint, and that this all made sense. There is an actual reason- let's hope there is- as to why Caroline wants Elena and Damon to sleep together._

_Make sure to review and make my day! _


	7. What Have We Started Here?

_A/N: Thanks for the amazing reviews and to __**shortybabygirl2009 **__for yet another great review. Sorry that this chapter took so long to get out. I've been busy with life, as you all probably are also. Oh, and before I forget, I want to send out my love to __**fallenfairy4 **__again because she inspired me to finish this chapter even when I didn't think I would ever get it out. And in your free time, go check out her naughty little drabble '__**Animal Attraction**__.' I really enjoyed it!_

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_Mistaken Observations: What Have We Started Here?_

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Elena left Caroline's house quickly after that; she didn't think she could handle anymore of her drunken babblings. Caroline had said- even if her words were a bit distraught and slurred- that she had some master plan behind her even better plot to get Stefan back into Elena's arms. Elena had sighed at this. Drunken people always thought they had the best ideas. That was how most of the human race got themselves put in jail, for God's sake. She would have to tell Caroline that one day. Granted, she probably wouldn't listen, but when did she ever?

_Sleep together. _Elena shuddered at those words. If she separated them and put them into discrete categories, they could be completely innocent- maybe even a little tedious-, but if she put those words along with her name, and then added 'Damon', it just became a big catastrophe that no-one would know what to do with. Those words were not supposed to blend together in her unfolding predicament, and Elena was quickly regretting even entering Caroline's house in the first place. She wasn't ready to face the cold reality of the blonde's words.

Elena sighed, setting her sights on the light peeking out from under Damon's door. She opened it with sore, stiff fingers, dropping her purse on a nearby bench, and trying to shake off the feeling that she was spending way too much time with Damon in general. This wasn't what she considered 'polite company' anymore. They were both on relying on each other more than she cared to admit.

When she had driven away from Caroline's house, her full intent had just been focused on maneuvering her car to the boarding house without falling asleep at the wheel. But once she had entered the house, she suddenly had this burning need to just talk to someone. Under normal circumstances, she would have just turned to Bonnie, or Caroline, or maybe even Aunt Jenna. But with Jenna dead, Caroline clearly intoxicated and no help at all, and all the pressure that was already being put on Bonnie, Elena couldn't find the heart to talk to anyone _but _Damon.

What did that exactly say about her? Was she really _that _needy or did she just need an excuse to talk to Damon without feeling ashamed for it?

"What's wrong with you?" Damon asked, seeing Elena enter his bedroom with a muddled expression gracing her features.

It was a loaded question to say the least, and it wasn't something Elena could just effortlessly answer. "I don't…know." She sat down at the foot of his bed, chewing over her thumb nail before opening her mouth again. "Is it possible for a vampire to go critically insane?"

Damon stared at her, bemused. "Have you met me?" he stopped to squint at her. "Please tell me you're not actually referring to me. I didn't even do anything this time."

Shaking her head, Elena brought her fingertips to her temples. That alcohol had not done her any good. "Nothing, you didn't do anything. It's Caroline. She said something absolutely ridiculous tonight. I don't know whether she was actually being serious of if she was just extremely drunk."

"Oh," Damon smiled and it was a bit forced around the edges. "Well, it _is _Caroline. You never really do need an explanation when it comes to her."

Elena didn't even have the energy to defend her friend. She slowly nodded her head like she was agreeing with him. In all honesty, he did have a point. Caroline did tend to spout out random bits of information when she thought it appropriate.

"Care to tell me what she said?" Damon asked.

Elena froze on her spot of the bed. Caroline told her not to say a word about it to him. Actually, she had said something along the lines of 'And if you tell him what I just said, Elena Gilbert, I will not hesitate in ripping your throat out.' Apparently, it was all part of her plan that she was so hell-bent on setting in motion. Caroline didn't have to worry though. It wasn't like Elena was going to tell Damon either way.

Elena grimaced. "Sorry. I'm not supposed to tell a soul. Caroline would eat me alive if she found out I told you anything." She looked at him closer, "In plus, I don't even have all the details. I guess she has this plan or something. It's a completely insane plan, but like you said before, it is just Caroline. She thinks it's brilliant."

Damon snorted. "What is it with vampires these days? They think that just because they can live forever, they somehow have all the answers in life."

"Not funny, Damon." But she still couldn't help the tiniest of smiles to stretch across her lips. She looked down at his lap suddenly, a glittering object catching her eye. She pointed to it, "What's that?"

"I was hoping that you would know. I found it on the doorstep this morning." Damon explained. "It looks like a necklace, but for all we know, it could be part of some dumb-ass trap Klaus has set up for us to stumble upon. Wouldn't be the first time."

Elena nodded her agreement. "You don't think it could contain vervain like mine does, do you?" She absently fingered the pendent sitting at her throat. Damon was the first to be informed that she didn't wear it because of Stefan anymore. She now wore it purely for her own protection. That, and the fact that Damon told her if she ever took it off, he would personally force it back on her himself.

"I have no clue," he handed it to her, "Does it look witch-y to you? Do you think it's bad to have around here? I've been staring at it so long now, I can't even tell anymore."

Shrugging, Elena turned it over in her hand. It was cold to the touch, and an old, rusty shade of gold marred it. Whatever it was, it was most definitely old.

"Doesn't look life threatening," Elena grimaced, "but if it's another one of Rebekah's pieces of jewelry, then I don't want it anywhere near me." There was nothing worse than a jealous vampire, especially if that vampire was an Original.

"I don't know," Damon put on a mock-serious expression, "I think you should wear it out and parade it around in front of her. That way, we'll know if it belongs to her or not."

Elena lifted an eyebrow. "And if it does belong to her?"

"Then it will make for one hell of a girl-fight. It's a win-win." Damon shrugged his shoulders, sagging deeper into the headrest of his bed. Suddenly, he sniffed the air around him. "What's that smell?"

Elena looked around her. The only thing that she could smell was the freshly-showered aroma that was wafting off of Damon. For someone who was trying to resist temptation, he sure was making her work hard for it. This had now become a full-time job. "I don't smell anything," she shifted uncomfortably. Was she the one that smelled? That would have been embarrassing. She _had _taken a bath that morning.

Damon looked at her curiously, his blue eyes almost glimmering in the light projected by his bedside lamp. Before she had time to react, he ever so gently moved forward from his spot, leant it, and took a deep whiff at her neck.

She sat perfectly still, hoping he wouldn't notice how her heart seemed to speed up from the contact. It was wrong, she knew that, but he looked so roguishly handsome and she had never even smelt something that good before in her life…

"That must have been one hell of a conversation, Elena." He relocated, ever so gently, away from her neck, "You reek of alcohol; you didn't steal from my stash, did you?"

Who in their right mind would have been dumb enough to do that?

"No, of course not. Caroline just had some lying around, and I just had a few sips," she shrugged, "Nothing to get too worked up about."

"But, you don't even like drinking," he said, "except for maybe that one time in Atlanta. I don't even think that counts."

"You know Caroline," Elena tried to laugh it off to the best of her ability. If she pretended like the conversation between her and Caroline meant absolutely nothing, then maybe Damon would leave her alone about it. "You can't really get through a conversation with her without wanting to rip your own hair out. I thought some alcohol would do me good. "

The thing Elena didn't want to admit was that Damon's closeness had more of an effect on her than she would have thought possible. Why was she all the sudden seeing him in such a new light? He was basically the same person. He was still devilishly good-looking, with a short temper, and an unkempt wit that was hard to tame.

He was still Damon; he hadn't really changed at all, but maybe _she _had.

She shivered at that thought. They had always been dangling on the fine line of 'friends' and 'enemies.' But, now, it was like they had to anchor on to each other just to stay afloat. They were fighting the same battles in this war between semi-good and complete evil. And how was it that she could find faith and hope and belief in the bad brother? In the past, he had been nothing but a bother in her life, someone that needed to be disposed of or banished from Mystic Falls. She had almost let Stefan kill him one night. How would things have been different if he had actually died? Would Klaus still have gotten what he wanted in the end? Probably, because it seemed that people with higher power always got when they wanted. Everybody would just be too scared to interfere.

Maybe this was all because Damon simply wasn't the bad brother anymore; he was just Damon Salvatore, the man who let himself love another and was eternally damned in return.

In this moment, Elena tried hard not to notice how complicated her life seemed to have become. But, still, none of this was going to keep her from searching for Stefan. Yes, her life was crazy, and yes, sometimes she did just want to throw in the towel and be done, but nothing good ever came to the quitters or the deserters.

If Stefan- the _real _Stefan- was even in there behind that maniac façade, then he had to realize that she wasn't going to wait forever. She couldn't love a ghost of a person; it wasn't possible. She wouldn't allow it to happen because that wouldn't be living at all. Her life was short, and his was however long he wanted it to be. She was going to wait it out for as long as she could, and if she ever did find Stefan, he had to come to understand that there was a chance that he was going to lose her. It was painful, but it was also true.

She just hoped that Stefan would even care about that. After all, he could just walk away and never look back at her again. Maybe he would just want to continue his way of life like it didn't exhaust him at all.

That reminded Elena of what her mom had said to her when she came home one day, crying because she had failed one of her numerous math tests. Her mother had said to her, "Do you want to know what the hardest thing in life is, Elena? It's living. Because you are alive right now, you are accomplishing something most people cannot. Try not to stress so much about the test, sweetie. You can always take it over." And then she had kissed Elena on the forehead, gave her a snack, and told her that she loved her more than life itself.

Elena could never figure out why her mother would say something so utterly depressing to her when Elena herself was only about eleven and a half. Later on in life, she just figured that her mom was going through one of these mid-life crises' that kids sometimes talked about. It never really crossed her mind that maybe her mom wasn't happy all the time. It made Elena feel selfish to always make her mom put her needs first. And now she was dead, so there was nothing she could do to make that up.

But, her mother had made a valid point. She was living through this. She hadn't given up, and she was willing to keep trying. Wasn't that worth anything? Wasn't she accomplishing the greatest feat in life?

Elena shook herself out of all her memories. She was starting to make no sense at all. She was supposed to be worried about other things right now, not about her mother- even if that did sound a bit harsh- and all the things that she could have done differently as a kid. Sure, she had made numerous mistakes, but what kid didn't?

In short, she was just supposed to be worried about Damon, and what she was going to do with Caroline's 'plan.' Was there really anything to do? She could always just say she slept with Damon, but wouldn't Caroline catch on too quickly? Surly she would tell that Elena was lying to her. It was hard for Elena to forget that she was a horrible liar when Damon would constantly remind her. Maybe Caroline was just joking or maybe she was just too drunk to realize that what she was saying was completely _not _the right thing to say.

Caroline was just one of those girls that didn't have a filter implanted in their brain when she was born. When she wanted to say something, she was sure as hell going to say it. Elena partly admired that because she could never be that bold, and then she also hated it at the same time.

Elena bit her lip as Damon watched her closely. He looked like he could almost guess what she was thinking about. She had always thought he _could_ read minds when she first met him (she wasn't really clear on what a vampire could actually _do_), but then she soon just realized that Damon got her more than anyone else seemed to. It was almost as if they were on the same intellectual level. They never really got along with each other- until now- but they always seemed to know what the other person was thinking. It could have just been that Elena was an open book, and that sometimes Damon wasn't too good at conveying his emotions either, but something in her gut told Elena otherwise.

"Are you sure there isn't something you want to talk about?" Damon asked, inching closer to Elena.

She unconsciously resisted the urge to scoot away from his advancing body, looking anywhere but his waiting face. Why did he have to smell so _good_?

"Nope," she smiled, "nothing at all."

But Damon didn't look like he believed her at all and this was also expected. She would never get away with anything if Damon was around.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right?" He spoke quietly, almost as if he could believe what he was saying. "I think it's safe to say that we trust each other enough."

It would have been so much easier to deny any sort of lingering attraction between them if he was just a jack-ass all the time. Why did he suddenly have to be so noble?

She jumped off the bed when Damon put his cold hand on her knee. She didn't think she could take any physical contact at that moment. "I think I should just- I'm just going to…goodnight, Damon."

That was how most of their conversations ended now. Elena would come into Damon's room, they would talk for a while, Damon would say something that basically expressed his undying love, and Elena would rush out with a painful 'Goodnight, Damon.'

She wished there was something innocent enough that could show just how much she really did care for Damon. When he said things like 'I will always choose you, Elena,' she never knew how to act. She was supposed to be with Stefan, and she felt that if she even acknowledged the fact that what Damon said warmed her to the core, then she would just be going against anything she ever worked up to.

There was no part of her that wanted to walk out of his room, but that is exactly what she did. What she wanted to do was go and confess everything Caroline had said to her and spill it to Damon. That was what he _deserved. _But, how would she know how Damon would have reacted to her confessions? All she could guess was that it wouldn't end well.

Damon smiled over at her when she rushed over to his door. Elena quickly wondered if he would ever stop faking that same smile. They both knew quite well that he didn't mean it one bit.

"Yeah," Damon simply said, "Goodnight, Elena."

And then she left, slamming the door behind her and proceeding to make a make-shift bed on one of the couches downstairs.

Even after all of this, she still couldn't find the heart to sleep in Stefan's bed.

She tried not to turn around again and ask if she could sleep in Damon's bed, and the only thing she could think about as she strained to fall asleep was, 'Why did he have to be so tempting?'

But, too find that reason, she would have to do some deeper digging. She didn't think she could do that, but she was going to die trying.

First, she just had to find the heart to do it…and maybe even betray Stefan along the way.

Why did that sound like such an appealing task, anyway?

.

.

"_What are your feelings towards Damon?"_

_Elena shifted uncomfortably in her seat, watching in front of her as Caroline checked her manicured nails. _

_This question, one she had been trying to avoid for quite some time now, was what she had been wondering for the past five days._

_Clucking her tongue, Elena reached out to take some bread of its plate. "What do you mean, Caroline? I don't have any feelings for him."_

_She hadn't meant to make it sound that harsh, but Caroline's questions were starting to become more and more personal. And why did Caroline have to be so observant in the first place? _

_Caroline crossed her arms, huffed, and squinted her grey-blue eyes. "I can just see the denial rolling off you," she threw up her arms in a dramatic state, "I'm your friend, Elena, and that means that you can tell me stuff, even all of your hot brother drama."_

"_But there's nothing to tell." Elena ripped off a piece of her steaming bread, plopping it in her mouth and also giving something for her fidgety hands to do. "Damon is just a friend, and I think I've probably told you that about a million times now…not that you seem to notice anyway." _

"_That's only because you never seem tell me the truth," Caroline leaned forward, putting her elbows against the creamy white table they were both sitting at, "If you would just cut your bullshit and tell me what you guys do when you're not trying to save Stefan, then I would not have to ambush you every time we go out to eat."_

_Elena tried to contain her eye roll, but when Caroline gave her an angry scowl, she knew that she hadn't succeeded in doing so. "Don't be so melodramatic, Care."_

_Caroline's middle finger twitched, and Elena smiled in response. The blonde didn't look too happy. "Well, then don't be a bitch, Elena."_

"_Come on, Care. What do you think we do in our spare time? Make love by the fireplace? No."_

_Caroline snorted, giving Elena her best snobbish look. "Yeah, you wish," she said quietly, "Look, I know that all this drama with Klaus is bound to mess with your head a bit, but it's time to face the facts, Elena. You are living with an insanely hot man who is willing to risk his life for you."_

_And there she goes again, Elena thought, defending Damon like it was life or death. _

_Caroline was on a roll now. "And your life is short, so I don't think you should be spending it looking for someone who doesn't even want to come back."_

_At this, Elena rocketed it up and out of her chair, pointing an accusing finger at Caroline. "You need to listen to me loud and clear, Care. I have listened to you talk about Damon like he is God's gift to women for about three months now, and if I have to hear about how you think we should get it on one more time, then I am pretty sure that my head will explode."_

_Caroline pressed against her chair, a hurt expression ruining her pretty face. "I didn't mean it-"_

_But Elena wouldn't let her finish. "No, let me just say this Caroline, because you are obviously not going to leave me the hell alone if I don't." Elena took a deep breath, preparing the words that were going to be pouring out of her mouth. "Yes, I do realize that Damon is good-looking, okay? Any women with eyes would have to be blind not to see that. And yes, I do know that I can't wait on Stefan forever. Sooner or later, I am just going to give up and there is no use trying to convince myself otherwise. But does that mean I am going to turn to Damon for comfort? Probably, and once again, there is no way to avoid that. Damon is just going to be there. The sooner you come to see that, the better things will turn out."_

_Elena stood in one spot, huffing for breath as other people watched her curiously. In front of her, Caroline was staring at her wide eyed, mouth gaping._

"_What?" Elena said self cautiously. "What did I say?"_

"_Did you really just say that you were going to end up with Damon when all of this is done and over with?" Caroline shook her head like she was trying to clear it, causing her blonde curls to bounce around her face._

"_What?" Elena couldn't help the small squeak that left her lips._

_Did she actually say that or was Caroline just putting words into her mouth? Surly she just didn't say that Damon was going to win in the end. In fact, no-one was going to win in the end. She wasn't even a prize to be attained in the first place!_

"_No," Elena rubbed at her temples, trying to rid the ache in her skull, "I didn't say anything like that, Caroline."_

"_Yes you did, Elena. There isn't any other way a person could take those words out of your mouth." Caroline stood up, and this time it was Elena that was having the finger pointed in her face._

_In her mind, Elena was rewinding what she had just recently told Caroline. She had talked about how she wasn't really going to wait forever for Stefan, and how Damon was always going to be there, and how she was going to turn to him for comfort, and then that was it! _

"…_And I can't believe that you have been lying to me this whole time…" Caroline was still yammering away, but Elena didn't have the patience to listen anymore._

_With one more heated look towards Caroline, Elena ripped open her purse, threw ten dollars down on the glass table, and strode away. Even though she was turned around, she could still feel the eyes of many innocent on-lookers and even Caroline's own pair of heavily made-up eyes on her back. _

_And so she did what any normal, eighteen year old with an attitude would do; she held her head up high, stuck her nose in the air…and tried not to let the tears escape her eyes._

.

.

As Elena lay down on her sad excuse for a bed, she tried not to let that particular memory fill her eyes with unwanted water. That had happened about three days before they both decided to make-up and get drunk at Caroline's house. And even then, Caroline had to go and tell Elena to sleep with Damon. It was just further proof that nobody would ever be able to change the mind of Caroline Forbes.

_Actually, _Elena thought tiredly, _sleeping with Damon doesn't sound too bad right n_ow.

Of course, she wasn't actually going to sleep with him in the literal sense. Maybe he wouldn't mind sharing his bed with her…

Elena sighed, throwing her many blankets off her body. Now that the idea was implanted in her brain, she knew that she wouldn't be able to fall asleep without doing it in the proper bed.

The only sound that rang throughout the large house was the soft pitter-patter of her bare feet on the floor and her own furiously beating heart. Why was she suddenly so nervous? And why were her palms sweating and her cheeks so flushed? Was this about what Caroline had assumed about her and Damon?

Elena furiously shook her head, pounding harder than necessary on the stairs up to Damon's room. This was all just too ridiculous. She had never been one to let what other people say influence that way she acted, but this seemed to be an exception to the rule.

As Elena turned the knob to Damon's door, she found herself almost laughing. No matter how hard she tried, she almost always found herself crawling back to him. What was _wrong _with her? It had only been about an hour since she had left him, and here she was again, practically drooling at his feet.

Elena entered his room, watching with practiced eyes when his chest delicately moved up and down with each passing breath, and how his bare chest gleamed lightly in the moonlights path.

She almost stopped and fled when his bed creaked under her additional weight and Damon moved faintly, but when everything calmed again, she slipped in between his covers. But try as she might, sleep would not come and she was left looking at Damon's sleeping form.

And she tried not to, she really did, but she couldn't stop the thoughts of what sleeping with Damon would be like. It had to be because she was seriously sex-deprived or something because the thoughts wouldn't stop rolling in, even if she scrunched up her eyes as tight as they would go.

She imagined the sweat smell of sweat and the way their skin would slide against each other's, and the way moans would reverberate against the walls and make their way back to her ears. She imagined it all to an almost extreme point of detail. All the things that Caroline had told her over the first year she had known Damon seemed to come careening into her, too. Every suggestive comment anyone had made about Damon, or anything Damon said about himself evenly replayed in her mind. She felt like she was going insane.

"_He's like sex on a stick, Elena." _She knew he was.

"_He is good in the sack, isn't he?" _She imagined that he would be.

"_Dashing? Gorgeous? Irresistible? _ Yes, he was all of those things.

"_And right now, you want to kiss me." _She didn't know why she hadn't at the time. It all came back to Stefan.

All of these things, to an extent, were true, and that just further proved exactly how much power Damon Salvatore had over her. Maybe there was no more room to deny it anymore. And that could have been a good thing because denying 24/7 was exhausting, and it was a bad things because she wouldn't know how to act around him anymore. All of his little flirty comments and flashing eyes were going to chip away at her armor until it wasn't even there anymore. That is what scared her most of all.

So here, in this dark room with the man in question beside her, was where she was admitting her feelings for him. She wasn't the only one in the world that was resistant to his charm. He did get under her skin just like he did to any other breathing female, and she did admit that one look at him caused her stomach to stir and her breathing to become a little heavier. So, yes, she was physically attracted to him, but would that ever be enough? Would _he _ever be enough?

As the full force of her realization hit her, Elena felt her tear-ducts fill to the brim. She hoped that Stefan, where ever he was, knew that she was betraying him. And the malevolent part of her hoped that he felt guilty for ever leaving her. He should have known that this was going to happen eventually. She was already sleeping in Damon's bed and letting him touch her more often when she wouldn't have before, and she was getting advice from friends on what she should do to handle this.

They were already more of a couple than her and Stefan ever were.

That thought was almost enough to send Elena over the edge, and she jerked in her spot, breathing hard. Her eyes flittered over to Damon when he rolled over to her, eyes wide and white teeth luminous in the night air.

"What the hell are you doing, Elena?"

She wished that he wouldn't have spoken at all. His voice- all husky and warm- caused her thoughts to drift to other indecent activates that had her head swimming in something closely resembling the beginnings of lust.

And the only thing she could manage to think was that there was no possible way that she could resist him anymore.

It wasn't possible…

.

.

_A/N: Oh, God. That was so ridiculously hard to write that it wasn't even funny. This chapter was more of a filler and that was why it probably seemed to painfully boring. The main point of it all was just to show you that Elena is slowly and surly falling for Damon and all of his glory. Oh, the horror, Elena. How will you ever go on?_

_Please try and lift my spirits about this chapter and review! (And yes, I am talking to you Miss. Peri!) lol ;) _

_Oh, and Happy Halloween!_


	8. You Must Have Missed It, You Always Do

_A/N: Damon. Elena. One bed. 5,724 words. You're welcome :) Peri, this one is for you! I hope you all like! _

_._

_Mistaken Observations: You Must Have Missed It; You Always Do_

.

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By some force that she was sure was not her own, Elena sat precisely stagnant, denying allowance of her labored breaths to exhale from her aching lungs. She was trying to persuade herself that if she proceeded to act like she was unnoticeable, then Damon would simply overlook her existence and fall back into his peaceful slumber. But, just like often times, she had not counted one two very possible things: Damon being a self-aware vampire (and of course this would entail that he was a very light sleeper,) and him also having his trusty super-sight that she found herself jealous of on more than one account. She left out the bit where she knew Damon could smell her out in a sea of two billion people; she didn't think it was very important information when her world felt in danger of imploding from within her.

But his eyes never wavered from hers and they burned brighter than anything she had ever seen before. They were promising her things. They were promising her illicit things, and things of the future, and the dark things…and the light things. And she found herself unconsciously wanting all of it. She _wanted _to know what the forbidden fruit tasted like, because she knew that something that tasted sinfully good was prohibited for just that reason. Because it was delicious.

"What are you doing, Elena?"

His voice carried over in the thick, heady air between them, ghosting around her eyelids and creeping towards her neck, down her chest, and to her frantically beating heat. Between the fogginess that was her brain, she hysterically thought that this was what compulsion felt like. But only this time, it was her body _and _mind telling her to do wanton things, telling her to do non-Elena-like things. This wasn't anything like compulsion- this was _possession. _

She didn't know that she was doing, because all she did know was that his lips suddenly looked fuller, and that her fingers were twitching by her side, eager to touch, or do, or _both_, and when he looked at her, it was like thousands of memories were just bustling around her, and they were just about ready to escape…and there was suddenly every part of her that was tense with implications.

"_You're attracted to him in all his bad-brother glory…"_

Her breath left in a whoosh, and it felt like the most final and panicky sound she had ever even heard before. His eyes and that damned body were planting painful seeds into her mind, and all she could get herself to think of was, _just once._ An unexpected rush came over her, and in front of her heated and boiling form, Damon was looking, waiting, wondering at her with half frenzied eyes, saying so much more than he would be able to with real words.

_He wanted her. _He always had. She just had never realized it for what it truly was.

This was hard for him, unbelievably so. He wanted to take her, because his heart ached. And his heart ached, because there was so much that he was being denied of. He wanted _this _life experience, but nothing was right.

(Nothing was ever right anymore.)

And all she did was just lie there, trying to find answers that would never come in the hard planes of his chest. It was still and un-moving and she thought he had never looked more beautiful.

But his exquisiteness was scarred and beaten until there was nothing left but a lonely version of his former self. Elena was never taught to love the broken man because that was what never happened in fairy tales, and those where the rules that every girl lived by. Was her life created with visions of white flowers and glowing, shining armor, and the capacity to love under colossal castles?

No, but she pretended that it was. In reality, her prince didn't even know she existed anymore, and his wicked brother could suddenly seduce her with his well-placed words and unwilling capacity to say the right things at the entirely wrong time.

And, in the end of it all, it never would have worked. She was cursed, after all. But maybe cursed was better than nothing at all. This way, she knew she had something to live for, and she always had been a fighter.

Elena tried with a feeble attempt to get the words unstuck from the back of her throat, but every time they seemed to be making their way out, more jumbled up thoughts clogged the way. They weren't even words- they were confessions trying to reshape themselves so they would be able to escape the ramblings of her mind.

She didn't know what she was trying to tell him or what exactly there was to tell, but it was burning furiously, so she knew that it had to have been significant than she was letting on.

"Elena," he repeated carefully, "what are you doing?"

From somewhere deep inside her, her conscience was yelling at him to just shut up. She needed time to think, to straighten her thoughts out before they got the best of her. Because the truth was that she didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know why or who she was living for, didn't want to know what horrible things were going on during this time of night, and she didn't know who she loved or who she was loved by.

"Trying to figure things out," she whispered, but her voice was all wrong. She sounded lost and like she was desperately not in control of her own body. He tried not to notice how her eyes were hollowed out.

But the thing Damon couldn't seem to ignore was the fact that this was going on the third time they had shared a bed together. Whether it was because she was comforted by his presence or because she felt severely detached from Stefan and Damon himself was the closest thing she had to him (he brutally detested the latter,) it still had the same effect on him.

There were other, much more appealing, ways to part that bed, though. He didn't want to share it with her not knowing what she was thinking about. He wanted the words to pour from her pouty lips, and he wanted her hands to flicker over him like they belonged there, and he wanted know if she would make the same breathy moans she had when Stefan still hovered around her and watched her every move. It was parasitic the way he used her like that, he knew that without questioning, but he found himself needing to know if she sounded as good in the bedroom as she did just talking to him..

And, as it turned out, she sounded _better. _

Then, he was ashamed to say, there was no going back after that. He tried to stop himself listening to her when she was showering, but after a while, he simply just stopped deflecting. The sounds that emitted from Stefan's bedroom night after painful night were already hard to ignore, but when he added the fact that there was an actual purpose to it after a short amount of time, he let himself indulge completely to the noises he wished he could make Elena Gilbert cry.

It was narcissistic and it was depraved of all things decent, and all he could listen to at night anymore was the resonances of her crying.

And maybe that was the reason he let her stay in his bed when she found herself willing. If she wasn't as broken as he was, then he would have stopped it months ago. But it was in the way she rarely laughed anymore, and the way she had practically no family left besides Jeremy, that had him welcoming the contact like a horny teenager.

Because, not only did he want her, he also craved her. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it but wonder…

…And wait. If he wasn't such a fatalist, he would have stopped waiting a long time ago, ripping it off like a Band-Aid. He had waited for Katherine for most of his miserable life, and when she somehow managed to screw all that up, he looked towards Elena.

This reminded him of the myth of the Phoenix. The majestic bird would first die, and then he would rise from the ocean just to be reborn again. But, just as he would start to fly, his body would suddenly dissolve into ashes. And this process would go on until the end of time…maybe even longer. The Phoenix could not move forward; it was in an endless cycle of not getting anything done. It was sad, really.

And that was where Damon was now. He wasn't getting anything done; he was sitting back and watching things take form and further evolve into something too big for him to swallow. And he would have liked to have taken what he wanted from the beginning, but, according to Elena, he was a changed man. He wouldn't- couldn't- just ravage and shed blood anymore. And he almost found himself not even wanting to.

He would do anything to keep Elena happy, of course. Because now, his whole life revolved around the teenage girl without him even realizing it at first. She seemingly had the power to melt a vampire with one flash of those chocolate orbs, and he cursed himself for following along with whatever she wanted to do. She was like a spoiled child whose parents had gotten whatever she wanted, and the trait had followed suit when she had grown into a women.

"And what things would you be trying to figure out?" His voiced sounded chocked on the way out, like it was being forced out by something beyond him. He didn't think he could control his words anymore; he was simply tired of all this denying, when it didn't even get him anywhere in the first place. He noted that he was the first one to break the excruciating silence between the two of them.

Elena didn't know how to respond to this. There was a flurry of things that she was trying to figure out. Things like: _why did Katherine not love you, and why do you find yourself having feelings for me, and are your eyes really as blue as they seem, and why do I have these mixed-up feelings for you when I should hate you? _There were other things also; things she had been wondering ever since she had met him.

_Do you really have the capacity to love again, or am I just delusional?_

No, she didn't think she was being delusional, and she was not being blinded by love because she did not love Damon-

Elena suddenly halted, stopping her thoughts where they were. Everything was being put on a stand-still now, and the silence was so loud that it hurt not only her ears, but also the marrow in her bones.

There was something there in the corners of her mind, something that she had promised herself after she had come to find out that vampires and all other mythical creatures were very real and living in the world around her. She had promised herself that she would never- no matter how much she wanted to- lie to herself. And she had figured out soon after that it was easier said than done.

So, yes, maybe there was that tiny part of her that loved Damon, she at least had the decency to admit that, but it wasn't the same way she would have feelings for a lover. But it wasn't sisterly feeling either. Sisterly feelings would entail that you could accidently see each other naked without feeling in danger of exploding and then blushing furiously, and after her own little experience with a half-naked Damon, it was safe to say that there was nothing 'sisterly' about her feelings.

Elena looked over to Damon, carefully avoiding those piercing eyes. "I was hoping you could tell me. There are a lot of things I'm trying to figure out." _There are a lot of things I need to figure out._

"Is that why I find you sleeping in my bed half the time?" Damon quipped, trying to find a way to hide his obvious arousal. Sometimes he thought that this was all too much.

If Elena hadn't already been in such a compromising situation, she would have found herself flushing from the tips of her toes all the way to her ears. In the direction this was going, Damon was going to think she was truly pathetic by the end of the night.

So, she did what anybody would do in this predicament. She didn't say anything. Nothing at all. And Damon just let her, turning his body to face hers.

And she tried not to feel like it meant anything to her, but the way he was leaning in, and the way his raven hair shown in the moons path of light, and the way his lips were pursed just so- like he was desperately wanting to say something to her- was soon going to be her un-doing. She was riding a tidal wave of emotions just by looking at him, and having him this close was making her heart beat in short and pert, spastic stutters. It felt dimly like a monster was trying to claw its way out of her chest, harsh and stinging, like a cut from a steal knife.

It felt dimly like she was seeing Damon Salvatore in a new light.

He had always been a sadistic killer in a leather jacket, and a striking face with features that one could ever forget. And it was the dark mask of no emotion on his face as he torn your organs out of your stomach, or the way his lips twisted in a power hungry smirk as the blood left your entire body until you were as good as a corn husk. Or it could have been the way he used your body for multiple things including wicked sex and terror and the fear in the realization that the lines between lust and fear was such a fine line. That Damon still lingered there, she knew. Just because he had not torn her pretty, little throat out yet didn't mean that he had actually changed. Because to say that one had changed meant that they liked it. But she liked to comfort herself with the thought that he had very much enjoyed it.

And seeing Damon like this, all bare chested and half asleep, made her want to do crazy things. She wanted to tell him her whole life story, what her old life used to be like, and the first time she had tried her first- and last- cigarette. She wanted to tell him how Caroline and Bonnie had become her best friends, and why she ended up with six stiches in her knee one summer. And she wanted to tell him why she kissed him the night she thought she had lost him forever. And she _did _have a reason this time, but the conversation was still a tender one, and she didn't want to ruin this perfect silence.

And she knew, better than anyone, that perfect things could never last forever, because they were never even perfect to begin with. In time, Klaus would come back for her, maybe even in a few days, and she would end up dead with a pool of blood surrounding her frame. It was depressing and an ugly thing to realize, but that didn't make it any less true. And the thought that someday Damon was going to lose her, had her gripping the downy comforter she was currently perched upon. She grasped the fact that one of these nights could be her last, and maybe that is why she said what she did.

"Damon," she called out into the dark, watching as her breath floated in the air above them. "I think I should tell you something; I think you deserve to know it."

Damon wanted nothing more than to just disappear in thin air along with her words, because he didn't want to hear it. Whatever she wanted to say, anything that she was determined to get out, was just going to make things worse. In the morning, she would feel guilty about all of her confessions. He knew this because they had been in situations like this before, as he was always reminded of. And she always ran away from him and denied everything she had said the night before, and it was going to kill him if she managed to do it again.

He perfumed skin wafted into nose as he inhaled, mentally preparing himself for round one-thousand. Hopefully, he thought, they would just be done with this soon. Elena was driving him wildly insane with all her vague non- answers. "Alright, go on."

Elena tried not to frown at his words; she would have liked him being a touch more enthusiastic about all of this, but she was going to have to use what she was offered. So, instead of telling him what she desperately needed to say, she asked him a thoughtful question, "Have you ever thought about your future?" It wasn't ideally what she wanted to start out with, but at least she had gotten something out there for him to hear.

Damon almost scoffed at her words, but he didn't think it very appropriate given the tense mood dangling in the room. His response, just like his thoughts, were sharp and to the point without a moment of hesitation in between breaths. "No. Not once."

Had this meant that he never thought about a future with her? No, he had never just simply thought about a future with her; he had _dreamed _about a future with her.

And Elena tried her best not to feel personally offended by his retort, but she still felt it slip past her heavy defenses. It made her wonder what he really thought about in all his spare time if it wasn't all about the time he had ahead of him.

"But, why?" She found herself asking. "Don't you want to know what your life's going to turn out like?"

And once again, he said, "No," and then he added, "I have a feeling I'm not going to like how my life turns out, so I try not to think too hard about it." He didn't add the part about how his future was never going to contain her in it, and he felt like that fact hurt more than her words ever would.

Elena knew that Damon didn't want to be pitied over, so she tried her hardest not to let it show through her face. But Damon thought he was bad, and that unsettled her because she knew otherwise. She knew what was behind that cold exterior of a vampire and it was nothing even remotely sinister. Elena would not let him think that his actions defined him as a person.

"You know what?" She said, giving him a full-on look into his tired eyes, "I don't think I believe you, Damon. I think you wonder a lot about your future."

To be honest, Damon didn't expect her to believe him at all. Elena was quick to judge and she seemed to always know when he was lying, even if he had mastered the art of deception over a hundred years ago. She said she could see the truth in his eyes. This unnerved him because Katherine could never do that. But Katherine had never loved him at all, so maybe that was the reason.

Making sure Elena was looking away from him, Damon quietly shook his head. He wasn't going to pretend that Elena loved him just because she seemed to know when he was lying. He had stopped indulging himself with those thoughts months ago. He had been doing quite a good job with it until Elena had recently ripped the top off a new set of emotions.

"Your right," Damon admitted after a couple moments of equally shared silence, "I do think a lot about the future. But I don't think you want to hear it because it's not a good one. There's never a good ending for my kind."

Elena was going to protest against that, but her reply died before it could even leave her throat. He was right; he was always right. There was never going to be a happy ending for him, for _them,_ or for anybody who had found themselves involved_._

"What," he chided softly, "you have no comment to that?"

She really didn't, but she also didn't want to give Damon the satisfaction of hearing it leave her mouth. She would have sounded like she was giving up, and that was the one thing she hoped never happened. Maybe that was what her own forthcoming entailed- a whole burden to bare that involved giving up and not getting anything done. Maybe Stefan would still be out there, still looking seventeen, and still torturing pretty girls with his trusty master to call the shots. Maybe Damon would still be out there, frozen forever at twenty-three, and still being as lost as he was before. There was no possible way to tell. Maybe they would all just turn up dead.

"Do you ever think about _your_ future?" She heard Damon ask, and she smiled once again, leaving her gripping fears back in the darkest parts of her mind.

"All the time," she replied, and she really did mean it this time, more than anything did she mean it. "In my future, Klaus is dead-"

Damon interrupted her. "And you're back with Stefan." It wasn't a question; he knew what the answer would be. He always knew.

But Elena couldn't help but hesitate in her response. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see Stefan in her picture perfect future. And maybe that was because no vampires existed in her picture perfect future. That almost depressed her- she was used to them by now- but it also made a tidal wave of relief wash throughout her. A world without vampires would be a much safer world- maybe a little less exciting, but still much safer.

"I don't know," she found herself saying, "I mean…I think so. I'm really just not sure."

If Damon was surprised at what she said, he didn't show it at all. His face remained impassive and as stony like as a boulder. But above all, he looked tired. Maybe she was just wearing him down physically and literally.

"Do you want me to leave you alone? Do you want to sleep?" But there were so many unsaid things behind those questions. _Do you want me to stay by you always? Do you want me to never leave this bed? Do you just want me to get on with my life even if it is doomed?_

And it seemed that Damon almost grasped those unspoken interrogations. And he replied with a simple, "No. I like talking to you."

And Elena didn't know why this meant to so much to her, but it did; it really did. And she really couldn't explain why, but water was starting to flood her tear ducts, hot and watery and steady. All she could think about was how they were in this together. She had lost her love and he had lost his brother, but the war was raging forward and they were missing out on it.

Damon didn't do anything to stop her tears because she would have away swatted him away even if he had. They worked that way a lot because it wasn't supposed to be him taking care of her. And she wished more than anything that she would just let him.

So, Elena was going to make it up to him with words. "I think I like talking to you, too." And then she said even more quietly, "I think I just like being with you."

Damon went back to the time he was dying on this same bed, where Elena was saying similar things of how much she liked him just the way her was. He had gained something that night: a new respect and love towards Elena. But he had also lost something that night, and he would possibly never let that go; he didn't think Elena could either.

"Never thought you would be saying that to me, now did you?" Damon asked, and then watched as Elena's face broke into a small grin of relief.

He wasn't pushing her away, and she needed that that most. _She _was usually the one pushing _him _away.

"I've been meaning to say a lot of things to you lately, so this doesn't come as a big surprise to me."

"And what have you been meaning to tell me?" Damon cringed as his voice wavered slightly at the end; she was making it so damn easy to become hopeful again.

That was, even if Damon didn't know it, the question that Elena had been waiting to be asked. After all of their sexual tension, and caring for each other, they had never stopped to ask what it meant.

And Elena was going to be completely honest now because he had asked, and he deserved a final answer.

She took a deep breath. "I've just wanted to tell you how much I care; I care so much about you that it almost hurts, Damon. And there's nothing I can do about it." She gave a small smile there, "And believe me when I say that I have tried everything."

Almost unconsciously, Elena moved closer to his warm and pliable body, shifting to make her curves fit where he was straight, and resting her right hand lazily on his hip. Her form was chilled against his naked skin and he flinched as she pressed further into him.

"And I can't help but feel that you're the only one I have left. So please, if you can, just try to bear with me. I know how much of a pain I can be sometimes, but I only do the things I do because I know what I want. I'm sure you feel the same." Elena's voice ghosted over his chest, and all he wanted to do was go to sleep with her in his arms, and her sweet breath filling his lungs.

And the part of his mind that could still function even when it was under her trance agreed with her. He knew what it felt like to be judged because of actions. He had never really meant to hurt anyone when he was off trying to save everyone; he was just doing what he thought was right.

Elena's hand absently glided down his abdomen when she repositioned herself to fit her head in the crook of his neck, and he waited for the hot bouts of lust to burn his nerve endings. It was, of course, one thing to even be in the same bed as Elena, but when she was this close- and this was the most physical contact that they had shared in weeks- he couldn't stop the glimpses of the more racy images to flood his mind: Elena in her bikini, flashing her delicate collarbone and heaving breasts as she filled her body with the air she needed in order to laugh. Those shining eyes that had taken a liking to staring into his cerulean ones, and the way he couldn't help but notice how her curves flowed wonderfully down her body, creating tan legs that ran for miles. It was a mouth-watering sight, but it was one he had to resist in order to stay sane. She wasn't his to be drooled over anyway.

"Did it really take you that long to realize that everything I've ever said or done was only because of a good reason?" Damon asked, and Elena frowned; she didn't think that the actions he had completed to get Katherine back was a good reason at all.

"No," she said quietly, "I've noticed it; I noticed it a long time ago. I just never said anything because everyone would start to think that I was being too soft on you."

From the mock look of horror on Damon's face, Elena almost had to laugh. "Oh, come on, Damon. You know that you're not exactly everyone's number one fan." Her smile faded slowly, pressing her lips into a tight line. "That makes me sound like a narcissist bitch, doesn't it?"

"Well, it's true, but you didn't have to call me out for it." Elena didn't have to look into his eyes to know that he was just joking. He knew, better than most people did, that he just wasn't liked as a person- or maybe just as a vampire.

This didn't shock Elena, but the sadness of it all did. She wished that people could see him the way she personally saw him- as a good- and maybe a little bit vindictive- person who had every right to be treated in respect.

Damon continued, unbeknownst to her internal rant. "And Elena?"

"Yes?" She answered, looking in the direction of his window and wondering how cold it currently was outside; she guessed that it must have been freezing.

"You were right about that one thing at the end though."

Elena yawned, resembling the mew of a cat, and then arched languidly into his body, and all wanted to do was sleep until all her problems melted away. "And what would that be?"

There was a pause, and before she could raise her eyes to see why Damon was stalling, she heard his voice whispering into her ear. "You really are a bitch," he chuckled, and Elena froze in his arms, bewildered.

Did he really mean that? Had she been that ungrateful towards him? She felt tears suddenly rushing towards the surface again, clouding her vision.

"And I didn't mean that in a bad way. A bitchy Elena is a strong Elena; she knows what she wants," he paused to secretly smile. "She's powerful; she's sexy."

"You don't really mean that," she said in a truly pathetic voice, but her tears were already drying up, "You think I'm weak; you think I'll break if things get too hard, or something else gets worse."

Damon shook his head with melancholy vigor. Did she not even notice how strong she really was? "I'm going to have to disagree on that one," he lowered his head until his nose was brushing the top of her perfumed, silky hair, and he skimmed across it with faint pressure. "You want to know what I think?"

She desperately wanted to know what he thought; she wanted to know everything he thought, but all she could manage was a small, pert nod of the head.

"I think," his nose skimmed her ear and she found her hand to be clawed into his hipbone as a reaction, "that you are the strongest women I have ever met in my life."

"I still don't believe you," she repeated as she felt a faint pressure on the crown of her head.

"Just because you don't think so doesn't mean it's not true."

Elena sighed. "I don't think I'm any more powerful than the next teenage girl."

Damon didn't mean to, but his hand traced one of the heated veins in her neck, feeling the pulse jump has he applied weight from his probing fingers there. "Then you must have missed it; you always do."

Elena signed, having no response to this.

Neither of them said anything thing for a vast amount of time, and the silence that followed was comforting. Elena felt safe, and with Damon stroking her hair with a barely-there touch, she knew that he would do anything to protect her. He wouldn't think twice about him life if it meant keeping her safe. The whole conspiracy of it all was quite ironic. He was, after all, trying to act like a hero when he was the exact opposite. Or that was at least what he thought.

"Damon?" She asked when her eyes started to droop.

"Mmm?"

"Do you think that Stefan misses us?" She had a feeling she already knew the answer, and she didn't know if she could take it at this point.

"Yes. I think he misses _you_."

Elena sleepily pouted out her lower lip. "S'not what I asked, Damon," she mumbled incoherently. "You know that Stefan loves you. It's just the part of him that Klaus has a hold of that doesn't love you."

"Just sleep, Elena. We can talk in the morning." Damon closed his eyes, focusing on Elena's steady breathing, and desperately trying not to notice how her limber fingers rested so nicely on his pale skin. And, suddenly, he just _had _to say it again. He had to let all of his emotions pour out into the small body of this one crazy and beautiful girl.

"I love you, Elena."

But she never heard it. She was fast asleep.

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_A/N: Well, that was exhausting. _

_Okay, so yes, I do know that both Elena and Damon are acting a bit OOC, but you have to realize that Elena isn't sure what's even going on in her life anymore. She is very confused, and in a moment of just giving in, she opened up part of her heart to Damon. I hope I didn't disappoint you with this chapter :) I worked my tailbone off just trying to advance and complicate the relationship between them. *fingers crossed* I hope it worked._

_And speaking of advancing and complicating relationships, how sweet was the pillow talk between the 'real' Damon and Elena last night? And when he fake bit her, I just about died._

_Leave your love in the form of reviews and I'll see you all next chapter :)_


	9. Do You Like The Way I Hate You?

_A/N: Many thanks go out to __**Despina Kanaki-Chrysochoidou**__, who left me an unsigned review that had me giggling with happiness for the next couple of hours. Thanks!_

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_Mistaken Observations: Do You Like The Way I Hate At You?_

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In the morning, when all was said and done, Elena wiped the sleep away from her eyes with weary and sore fingers. She looked out the window, saw the yellow of the sun being cast on her hands and feet, and then she glanced over at Damon. He was still sleeping, curled up beside her like he had every right in the world just to be placed near her body.

His chest glistened like early morning dew on grass and her eyes lingered near his pale, milky-white hip. There were scratch marks on the indentation there; _her _finger nails marks from where she had gripped his skin. She tried not to contemplate about what others would think about her if they saw them.

Then, she got out of the big bed, walked out the door, and softly closed it behind her.

And it felt like she was hurting him more than she was hurting herself.

.

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"I hope you know why I told you about my little plan." Caroline twirled her pink straw around her fruity drink. Her face, which usually glowed with pride and her own characteristic bubbliness, was now currently set in a frown. She looked, somewhat, like a child who had just been scolded at; she looked like a puppy with its tail between its legs.

But, Elena was going to stay strong. She was _not _going to be swayed into apologizing to Caroline when it was really Caroline who needed to be the one saying sorry. Caroline always had been one to carry the burden of 'diarrhea of the mouth.' Elena really couldn't blame her…but, she was going to anyway.

"Little?" Elena scoffed beside her blonde friend. "You practically dropped the weight of the world on my head and walked away with my money. Thanks for that by the way. It really made my night." She rolled her eyes with a dramatic flair and stared at the mahogany wall before her.

"It really was bad, wasn't it?" Caroline cringed and downed her drink with a snap of her wrist. She was going on her tenth drink, something that was completely not lost on Elena. The blonde vampire had an extreme tolerance to alcohol.

"That's pretty much an understatement. But, if you want to make yourself feel better, then yes, it _was_ really bad."

Caroline sighed and swiveled in her barstool. "See! This is why I don't drink. I always end up say the wrong thing, " she waved a hand, "It would just be so much easier if no-one liked hanging around me. That way, I wouldn't have to give out so much damn advice."

Elena snickered, but didn't have the heart to tell Caroline that she usually always said the wrong things, sober or not. She watched as Caroline waved the compelled bartender over for anything drink.

"Is that why we're at a bar right now? Because you don't like drinking?" Elena fingered her own drink lightly, trying to decide whether or not consuming it would be appropriate.

Caroline gave her a guilty look, taking her drink with a fake smile towards the bartender. "God, I'm as bad as Damon," and then, she gave Elena her best predatory grin, gripping her elbow like she wanted to hear all the best gossip floating around the town, "Speaking of, how are you and Damon doing?"

"Damon?" Elena squeaked, trying to feign innocence without giving away what had happened that previous night. "Damon who?"

Caroline gave her a 'duh, of course you know who I'm talking about' look. "Come on, Elena. Don't be such a tease. How many Damon's do you know, exactly? Dark, sexy, blue eyes…the one you're undeniably attracted to? Is that ringing any bells?"

Holding up a hand to silence Caroline and her useless rambling, Elena finally threw back her head to devour the alcohol in front of her in one big gulp. "Give it a rest, Care. You know that there is absolutely nothing going on."

"Do I?" Caroline gave Elena a skeptic look, like she didn't believe half the things that were coming out of her best friend's mouth. "Because, I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems that you guys could pass for an old and bitter married couple."

Elena scoffed, but let her long hair shield the blush that had crept up her throat at an amazing speed.

She knew that she and Damon liked to partake in some fun- maybe even flirty- banter that didn't really hurt anyone. They would argue about silly things, and things they knew they shouldn't laugh at because it was supposed to be serious, and they even poked fun at the things that weren't even funny at all. But, when things had rapidly progressed into more serious territory, Elena couldn't help but find completely idiot things amusing. She blamed it on the sleep deprivation and the not knowing of what was going to happen that next day.

Sometimes they just laughed at the situation they had found themselves in. And _that _was almost funny in the most sinister way possible.

But, when they put all their teasing and chiding aside, they were just doing it because…they were Damon and Elena. They didn't need a reason beyond that.

"Everybody fights, Caroline," Elena reproached, "It's not my fault that you read into things more than I do."

Caroline stuck her tongue out in response, crossing her grey-blue eyes to Elena's great amusement and causing her to giggle.

"But, it's not just the flirty fighting, or the things you say to each other to get the other to laugh," Caroline sobered up, wiping her tiny, sticky hands on a napkin. "It's the way you look at each other when you do it."

Elena swallowed around the lump in her throat, feeling like a deer caught in someone's headlights. "I don't know what you're talking about, Care."

"Really?" Caroline raised a delicate eyebrow, "You want to run that one by me again?"

Okay, so yes, Elena did see the way Damon looked at her when they were in the middle of a mock argument, but she had only guessed he did it to show her that he didn't mean any of it- that it was just something he did to get a reaction out of her. Damon seemed to like her best when she was all fired up, and to be honest, she liked Damon even more when he was all fired up, too.

Elena felt wrong for even admitting that. But, she _did_ like it when Damon was enthusiastic, because it brought out the passion behind his eyes- the passion that she knew was always there, but still needed a little digging in order for it to be brought up to the surface.

Infect, she was all too aware of how Damon looked at her, but was she really looking back at him with equal desire? If she did, then did Damon see it? But, he surly would have called her out on it, so maybe she didn't look at him with anything but a fierce respect for someone much older, and much wiser than her.

"Then how do you think I look at him if you are suddenly the 'all-seer' of all complicated relationships?" Elena found herself hissing over to Caroline.

"Hey, honey," Caroline sipped the dregs from her glass before slamming it back on the counter, "I don't make up these things; I just let the facts come to me."

Elena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Could her friend be any more dramatic?

"It's easy," Caroline shrugged. "You look at him like you want him. Excuse me if I thought you really did; it's practically plastered all over your face."

The crowded bar suddenly felt too hot, and Elena pulled the collar of her shirt away from her chest, trying to circulate air into her lungs. It was to no avail, and she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. When did the room abruptly feel like it was spinning around her?

"What's the matter, 'Lena?" Caroline smirked, pulling her mouth up at the edges, "Scared that I'm right?"

"No, of course not," Elena replied, irritated. "Why can't you just drop it, Care?"

Because," Caroline shrugged, "I'm just trying to get you to see the facts. You are only hurting yourself by denying what you truly want."

Something akin to anger bubbled up in the back of Elena's throat. She quickly swallowed it down, but it still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"And how could you, Caroline Forbes, possibly know what _I _want? You don't even live with me and Damon." While leaving Caroline to ponder the question, Elena waved the bartender over much like Caroline had done earlier. She really didn't need the extra alcohol, but it felt good to have something run down her throat that could also prove as a distracter at the same time.

Elena sipped at her sugary drink lightly, watching in half amusement and half frustration as Caroline tried to come up with an explanation to everything she had assumed.

A couple minutes later, Caroline snapper her fingers and gave a light clap. "I know," she exclaimed, "It's because I'm your best friend, and therefore I always know what you're thinking. It must be some freaky sixth sense thing."

Elena huffed, much more un-amused than she was before. "Can you at least try to be serious for five seconds?"

"What do you want me to say, Elena?" Caroline threw up her hands in exasperation. "Trust me, I just know what you're thinking when you think it. It's not my fault you're such an open book."

"Open book?" Elena scoffed, oddly hurt by what Caroline had said about her. "I really don't even think that's true. I'm not the one who gets all freaky faced when I get near blood. If that's not an open book, then I don't know what is."

Caroline recoiled and Elena internally bit her lip. Oh, great. Why did she ever have to open her big mouth; she was worse the Caroline when it came to these things.

"You know I can't help that," Caroline whispered.

And Elena knew that Caroline really couldn't help it, but all she was doing was assuming the wrong things, and Elena couldn't take it anymore. There was a time when certain people knew when to shut up, but Caroline had never gotten that memo.

"I know, I know," Elena rubbed at her brow, feeling a pounding headache brewing behind her eyes, "I just hate it when people assume about me too much. And you know that, Care. If I haven't already said this before, people don't know anything. They take one look and Damon and I and see that Stefan is gone, and they automatically think that we're hooking up or something wrong like that. It's infuriating."

Caroline still didn't look Elena in the eyes, keeping her gaze on the counter where her fingers traced imaginary patterns. Suddenly she spoke, resentment clogging her speech. "You're just afraid, Elena."

"What," Elena leaned forward; barely believing that Carline still hadn't dropped the lingering subject, "did you just say?"

Caroline squinted her eyes and pursed her lips, meeting Elena's gaze head on, and straightening up in her chair. "I said that you're just afraid, Elena. You're just afraid that I'm right; you're afraid that once I say these things, you're going to finally realize that what I'm talking about is actually making sense."

Elena felt the air leave her lungs in a rush. "_You_ don't even know what you're talking about. How are you supposed to convince me of things that I don't even believe in?"

"Yes, I do to know what I'm talking about," Caroline almost sneered, sounding much like a five year old, "Infect, why don't we just admit it right here and now."

Before Elena could even stop her actions, Caroline had climbed to the top of her stool until she was standing on it with tottering feet. All the people in building looked at her with curiosity, probably all thinking that she was just another drunk girl at the bar.

"Get down," Elena hissed, trying to tug on the blondes skirt so she would see how childish she was acting.

"No," Caroline slapped her hand away and stood, spine erect, until all eyes were on her.

"Attention," Caroline called and all Elena wanted to do was body slam her into next week. "Attention, I have some great news! My friend over here," she pointed towards Elena, "is in complete denial over a guy. She seems to think that she doesn't care for him at all, when all she really wants to do is fuck his brains out! And while she is denying these emotions, she likes to go around and tell people that this guy is just another person who likes to fawn over her like some lost puppy."

Besides the burning need to get oxygen flowing inside her chest again, Elena felt a new emotion tear up her insides: furry. It rushed throughout her veins, and left the tips of her fingers tingling with a sense of anticipation. She had never, ever wanted to hit something so hard in her life. And Elena was _not _a violent person…unless she had to be. And where were those sudden feelings coming from? They were just, until moments ago, talking about normal drama, and suddenly she wanted to punch her fist through a wall.

How dare Caroline accuse her of such things! It was ridiculous and pitiful, and Elena could barely resist the urge to jump up and place a good, hard slap on the right side of Caroline's face. She was her friend, and she was supposed to be supporting her- not telling her what she felt and what she wanted to do about Damon.

Barely even realizing she had, Elena sprung up from her spot on the barstool, pointing an angry finger in the direction of Caroline's overly enthused and flushed face. "You are in no position to be telling me what my feelings are. You can barely even control you own feelings, Caroline! You love a werewolf for Christ sake, and you want to preach to me about _feelings?_"

People were staring at the both of them with annoyed expressions now, and Elena had never been one to cause a scene, but that was all she wanted to do now. She _wanted _people to point and stare and tell their children when they got home that they didn't want them to end up like this crazy girl they saw when they were out that night.

"Just because you thought Damon was a good fuck, doesn't mean that I have to follow in your footsteps. He never even liked you- he still doesn't like you!" Elena was on a roll, the words flowing from her mouth like honey would off a warm biscuit. She couldn't even stop the words, and she definitely did not know why she was saying them. All she knew was that it felt good to release so much pent up frustration.

"Elena, I-" Caroline tried to get a word in, her face reddened with her own rage and excitement, "I don't even know why I did-"

"No," Elena held out her hand, shutting Caroline up almost immediately, "Just don't talk to me. You have done nothing for the past couple of months but try to convince me that I need to pick Damon, or tell me how much better I am when Stefan is gone. It's always about Damon, Damon, and more Damon and I have had about enough of that crap." Elena breathed out hard. "And telling me that I need to sleep with him? That's only something a true narcissistic bitch would say. It's pathetic; _you're _pathetic."

A universal gasp seemed to fill the air as Caroline's hand shot out and connected with Elena's face. The force of the blow was enough to knock her down on her knees, but with the combined force of super-human strength, and all the anger in the world at the brunette, it sent Elena half flying across the room.

When Elena landed in a crumpled up heap in one of the corners of the bar, she almost gagged when she felt something wet and warm running down her cheek. She touched the offended spot, wincing at how heated and raw it felt, and then wincing even more when she felt the blood run over her fingertips. Caroline had actually hurt her with those brutally long nails of hers. And maybe Elena had deserved it.

_No, _she thought, _I know I deserved it. What were you thinking when you said those things, Elena? You know that you didn't mean any of it. You love Caroline like she is your own sister; like she is your own flesh and blood. _

She was thinking that she was tired of playing the nice girl that got pushed around so many times in her life that it almost made her head spin. She was tired of being herself; she was tired of living this way.

"You bitch,"

Elena's head volleyed up as Caroline's voice filled her ears. People were still staring at them, and this time, Elena wanted nothing more for them to just disappear. The traitor tears that were falling over her face stung on their journey down, sliding into her jagged cuts and making them fester and swell.

Caroline sure was a sight to behold. Despite the audience they had attracted, she had her deadly fangs bared, black veins crawling up and under her eyes like slithering snakes. She looked like she wanted to kill, and afraid that she really would murder something in the room, Elena scampered up further into the corner, bringing her knees up to her chest in a sore attempt to shield herself from Caroline's rage.

"I've done nothing but try to help you!" Caroline stood in one spot, clenching and unclenching her fists until Elena could almost see one of the knuckles crack from under the added pressure. "Do you see Bonnie anywhere? Do you think she wants to put up with you? Because, honestly, if I were her, then I would stay the hell away from you, too. She has enough to deal with, Elena! She doesn't need you to complicate things for her. I'm the only one who really wants to put up with your shit."

Somewhere deep inside her, Elena could feel it; she could feel her heart breaking into a million little pieces. Why did she have to bring Bonnie into the equation? That had always been a tender subject with her.

"You said she was just busy," Elena said quietly and almost to herself. If she said her words any louder, she was sure that Caroline would implode.

But, her saying the words quieter seemed to make Caroline even angrier. "What was that, Elena? You don't have any bitchy remark for me now? No surprise there. I guess Damon fell in love with a true fake- just like Katherine."

Maybe it was the fact that Elena had never felt so undeniably mad at one person in her eighteen years, or maybe it was because Caroline had suddenly added Damon into their painful web of lies that made her snap completely. Whatever the reason was, it still made Elena storm up to Caroline, fear completely vacant from her strong gaze, and look the frosty blonde directly in the eyes.

In a threatening voice, Elena whispered the words that she knew she was going to regret later on. "You know what? I pity Tyler. He's the one who has to put up with you. And believe me when I say that I will have Damon personally deal with you if you come anywhere near me ever again," she leant in to Caroline's ear, "He won't even think twice about it. So, just get the hell away from me and stop telling me what to do!"

Caroline paled in front of her, and it took a while for Elena to fully comprehend what she had just said. The whole world made a slow spin around her, and then she gasped, her hand flying to her throat in an attempt to stop any more words that were sure to explode from her lips. _She_ was the one acting like a fourteen year old girl who was throwing a major temper tantrum- not Caroline.

"Wait, Care," Elena reached out, placing a shaking hand on Caroline's arm. "I didn't mean it-"

"Don't touch me," Caroline snapped in response, wrenching her arm from Elena's embrace. Her eyes briefly found their way over to Elena's wounded and swollen cheek, and she tried her best not to feel any remorse. The little imp deserved it!

"You can just go to hell, Elena. I'm done with trying to help you; I hope you and Damon are happy together." But Caroline's voice implied that she really didn't hope they ended up happy together. She said it more like: _I pity Damon for having to love you. _

Elena tried to reach out again, but when she blinked, Caroline was suddenly gone. The only thing that she had left behind was bubblegum smelling air and the tangy bitterness of her anger.

She stood by herself, surrounded by a sea of people whom she did now know, shifting her feet from side to side and not knowing what to do with her hands. She felt so pathetic; she had always laughed at the drunken people that caused riots in public places. And she really was no different than any one of them. Infect, she was probably worse.

When the people around her started to go back to their old conversation, and some of them even laughing at her stupidity, Elena knew that it didn't take someone being a vampire to make them cold and hostile. And this just made her feel even worse. Not only did she just potentially lose one her best friends, but she was being smothered by individuals that clearly didn't give a rats-ass about whatever happened to her.

Embarrassed to the extreme point of physical pain, Elena finally moved her feet, dodging people and pushing them away as they got in the way of her haste. She had her eyes set on the women's bathroom; it was the closest thing she could have compared to a safe haven at this point. Behind her, the laughing mocked her, echoing in her ears and leaving her wanting to tear her hair out in clumps. The tears blurred her eyes as a man gave her a dirty look when she shoved him out of her way.

"Watch it, lady," he growled, but Elena was already at the bathroom door before he could say anything more.

She let out a strangled cry of frustration when she pulled on the door handle and it didn't budge. Some bitch must have locked it from the inside; she was probably hooking up with her boyfriend or something slutty like that.

Elena looked around. There was no way she could have faced those people again- even if they didn't know her, they still had witnessed one of the most heart-wrenching moments of her life, and that had to at least meant something. And Caroline had probably taken her car with her. Why would she leave it if her and Elena's companionship was practically ruined?

A somber looking man escaped the confines of a room across from her, and, without even thinking of the consequences, Elena dived into it before the door could close on her.

She breathed deeply and slumped her back against the door before leaning over to turn the lock with a click. While avoiding herself in the mirror, she noticed a figure clad in black from the corner of her left eye. She jumped back, letting out a small yelp when she realized that she was in the men's bathroom.

As if her night couldn't get any worse. Life always had a funny way of screwing her over like that.

"Sorry," she mumbled her apology, not even looking at the man in question, "I guess I didn't see which bathroom this was." She tried to leave, opening the door and letting a rush of voices, smells, and colors fill her senses. She so badly did not want to go out there again.

"Oh, but you just got here,"

The voice stopped her in her tracks. She knew that voice; she knew that voice better than she knew the back of her own hand. What the hell was he _doing _here?

She turned around slowly, closing her eyes and praying that she was just imagining things. But when she opened them again, she saw what she was dreading more than facing those wicked people back in the bar. Damon Salvatore, the epitome of all things God-like, was standing before her with a mixture of glee and concern in his clear blue orbs. Why did he always seem to show up at the wrong times?

"Do you usually come into the men's bathroom looking all hot and bothered? People may get the wrong idea, Elena," he tsked, and then upon seeing the ragged scratches marring her smooth cheek, he stopped, malice flashing throughout his hard body.

"She never said anything about hitting you," he growled, moving towards her with slow, even steps.

Out of instinct, Elena's hand moved to touch her wounds. She inwardly cringed when they stung more than she remembered the first time she dared to graze them.

"Caroline talked to you? And how are you even here? She left only a couple minutes ago."

"She just told me that you guys had a conversation," he reached out, taking her heart shaped face into his hands and wiping away the lingering tears, "It seems that it was one _hell _of a talk."

She slapped his hand away with venom, not wanting him to touch her after he had basically started the argument between her and Caroline. "Knock it off, Damon. I'm fine."

"Yeah," he grunted, inspecting her bloody cuts, "You sure do look fine." His fingers browsed over her cheek and she grimaced in pain.

"I said to get off me, Damon! Just get your hands off me," she pushed at his chest and he stumbled backwards.

As he regained his balance, Damon looked at her with a muddled expression. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

_You, _Elena wanted to scream, _you have gotten into me! Are you happy now? You have finally got what you wanted! I am affected by you and everything you do. But, please, just for my sanity, get the hell away from me. I will at least be able to think if you do._

"Nothing," she mumbled instead, running a haggard hand through her hair, and pacing in a small circle as Damon watched her with uneasy eyes. She probably looked like she was having a raging break-down. "It's nothing at all. What could possibly be wrong with my life right now? It's not like I have a psychopath of a boyfriend who goes around trying to kill his own brother or anything. And it's not like I having my own personal busybody who tells me who I should sleep with. And you," Elena pointed an accusing finger in Damon's face, "How is it that you can cause trouble even when you're nowhere to be found?"

Damon raised his hands up in surrender, but Elena was nowhere near finished. She still had some extra steam to blow off thanks to her little episode with Caroline.

"You see this?" This time, Elena pointed his attention to the four scratches on her face. "This is because of you. This is because I can't stand to have people talk shit about you and me."

If Damon was surprised at her choice of vulgar language, he sure didn't show it. His face remained as stony and impassive as ever; he didn't even seem fazed by the wording of 'you and me' put together.

"And it's because I got all defensive over your _honor_," she spit the word out like it was a sin, "that I ended up with one less friend and a screwed up face."

But Damon didn't think she looked screwed up in anyway. He thought that she looked wildly beautiful when she was all infuriated and pissed. Her makeup was smudged all over her eyes, making her look a little feral, her lipstick was smeared from drinks being consumed from over the counter, and her cheeks were red with heat and an added mixture of blood leaking from her cuts, and he still thought she was the most gorgeous thing he had ever laid eyes on.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Damon sighed, tuning back into Elena. He couldn't help but notice how broken and damaged she looked, and he wondered what he could have possibly done to cause her this much pain on his behalf.

"Yes," he grunted, "I am."

Elena sighed before him; she obviously was not impressed with his attentive skills. "No, you're not. Why do I always turn to you when I have problems? You never listen to me…"

He watched as she thumped her head against the wall she was leaning on, and then he observed her face carefully when she slid against it until she was sitting on the floor in a heap of a messy, disoriented female bundle.

As if it would help, Damon walked up close to her and sat adjacent to her body, their thighs touching. "You come to me Because I'm the only one you have right now. I didn't think you would forget that fast."

Elena turned to look at him, new, fresh tears rimming her lower eyelashes. His own eyes bored into hers, willing her to say something- anything that would reassure him that she still depended on him.

"I know," Elena finally answered, tearing her gaze away from him, "And that's what keeps on getting me into these messes."

Damon didn't try and contemplate what this all meant. Instead, he asked, "What happened tonight, 'Lena?"

"Do you really want to know?" Elena's voice broke, and, almost out of instinct, he took her trembling hands in his own and squeezed gently.

"Yeah, I think I really do."

A deep breath escaped Elena's mouth; she should have known that Damon was going to want to know what happened between her and Caroline. In response, she put her head in the crook of his shoulder, and she let herself believe it was because she was unbearably tired. Damon still soothed his thumb over her hands, trying to tell her that it was okay to tell him because he wasn't going to judge.

He wasn't ever going to judge her.

"Caroline and I," she paused, struggling to find the right words, "We had a little disagreement." That was a pretty big understatement on her part, but it was all she had.

"About what?" Damon probed.

That was the one question Elena was hoping he wouldn't ask. "Just about things," she swallowed nervously.

Damon didn't look convinced at all. "And that's why she bitch slapped your face? Because you guys were just talking about _things_?"

"Yup,"

Damon shook his head lightly, causing Elena to shift to a more comfortable position against him. "Do you want to tell me the real reason?"

"No," Elena answered almost automatically, "Not really."

Damon huffed. "I actually wish you would this time."

"I know."

"And that's it?" Damon asked, "You're just going to keep my guessing?"

Elena wished he wouldn't try to figure it out at all. It was better for both of them if they just let it go. If Damon ever was to ever figure out that Caroline had wanted Elena to sleep with him, then he would never be able to look at Elena the same again.

What was left of their friendship would be gone, and Elena wouldn't tolerate that.

"Yes," Elena replied, "Yes, I am."

Damon sighed but didn't try to pry from her anymore. "One day you're going to trust me enough to tell me these things, Elena. You can't deny me forever."

Elena easily caught the double meaning behind his words. "I know, Damon. I know."

And, for once in her life, she meant it more than ever.

.

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_A/N: And there you have it! Bet you weren't expecting Caroline and Elena to go all ninja on each other. And neither did I! I just felt like I had to write it, because it showed how much people around Elena saw how much Damon affected her. Which leads me to the question…Does anyone else think it's ironic that the only person who doesn't see how much they like each other is Elena herself? _

_I had the worst possible day today, so make my night and review just a tiny bit (or a lot; it doesn't matter to me!)_

_And I can't wait for tomorrow's mid-season finale! My friend Peri and I are anxiously hoping that there is a kiss involved!_


	10. You Are Rough Around The Edges

_A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews!_

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_Mistaken Observations: You Are Rough Around The Edges_

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"I think we should go now; it feels like we've been sitting here for five hours," Damon slowly stood up from the floor, taking Elena's elfin hand in his own, and pulling her up to her full height. Elena pouted, her lower lip jutting out, and he tried not to notice how broken she seemed next to those rusty looking urinals. He cringed in distaste. "And this bathroom is starting to smell weird."

But, Elena just sagged against him, her tired limbs telling her to plant it and to never get up for a second time. "But, I don't want to leave," she mewled, tugging on his worn leather jacket, signaling to him that she wanted him to let her go. She had almost been comforted by Damon's sturdy collarbone and the smell of his skin. She wasn't ready to get up and leave just yet.

And this is one of the many times that she wanted to be comforted by him, and he just pulled away?

Damon almost groaned in response to her words. Elena always found a way to complicate things. If it wasn't her complete control over him, then it was her inability to disagree with every little thing he said. She _always _wanted to do the exact opposite of what he told her. It was probably just because she had such a strong-will, and a complete free mind, but Damon was starting to wonder if it had something to do with the sick humor she found in infuriating him.

"Knock it off, Elena," Damon tried to keep his voice steady and in control. "It's fine that you feel like shit right now. I get it, okay? I usually don't feel too good when you slap me across the face, so I can imagine what you're thinking about this situation. But we need to go home. People are going to get suspicious if we don't come out."

He then heard her say something along the lines of, "Like it even matters what they think anymore. They already think I'm some sort of mental case who can't hold a good friend to save her life."

Damon sighed, and Elena just looked somber. He _really _needed to get her home before her inability to walk set in.

Yanking her hand from his, Elena straightened her spine out, her face flushed, and her irritation set to a new high. "Fine," it sounded like a growl to Damon, "I'll go. Just don't expect me to like it."

Damon thought she sounded briefly like a stubborn kid who had just been denied of their candy. It made him want to laugh, and he had to quickly compose himself of doing so. He figured that Elena wouldn't appreciate it very much. She looked to serious right now- to melancholy, and he simply didn't have the heart to poke any more fun at her. The poor thing looked like she was about to fall at his feet.

After he was sure that he wouldn't explode into laughter, and he securely had Elena by his side, Damon unlocked the white door, opened it, and rushed Elena outside into the rush of drunk and overly-excited people.

Elena ducked her head, trying with a fierce determination to go un-noticed by the array of party-goers. Even when she stayed pressed into the side of Damon, and all but buried her face into the heated skin of his neck, she could still feel all of their eyes on her back, and boring into her head like strong headlights.

And, she couldn't hear them, but she knew that they were laughing at her; they were all laughing at her on the inside, and she hated feeling so needy- so un-put together. After Stefan had left, she had spent _months _building up her tolerance to what other people thought. Was it working? No, not really, but she still liked to convince herself that she was immune to the gossip that she knew people talked about behind her back.

The silence in the room was pressing down on her head, and a woman in her late twenties gave Damon a very peculiar look. Elena had to bit her tongue just to refrain from telling her to fuck off. But who was Elena to do that? It wasn't like Damon was her boyfriend or anything closely resembling that. He could go around and see whoever the hell he wanted.

The thought of that made Elena bitter, and before she could stop herself, she whispered into the shell of Damon's ear, "I hope you know that half the woman in here are eye-raping you."

At this, Damon exploded into loud mirth, and it made the tension in the bar suddenly disappeared. The people started chatting amongst themselves, the clinking of beer bottles became present, and the lady who had given Damon that flirty little glance had turned back to her boyfriend.

"Let them," he replied, "They're never going to see me again."

Elena smirked at that before letting out a breath of relief as they stepped out of the building and into the frigid, cold air.

And she would definitely make sure that those people never saw her again, either. Not if she could help it.

From the corner of her eye, Elena saw Damon slid his hand into his pocket of his dark-wash jeans, producing his rattling car keys with a flick of his wrist. "Ready to go home, Pouty?"

The corners of her mouth twitched up, resembling a small smile and also some lingering bitterness. She remembered that nickname from when things were easier; when things were simpler to come by, and the only thing she had to worry about was how bad Damon would annoy her that day.

God, she missed those days more than anything in this world.

But, still, she replied to his question with a barely-there nod of her head. "More than anything."

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"Ouch," Elena whined, "What are you trying to do, rub until you hit bone?"

Damon rolled his eyes. He was trying to help her after all, and she was acting like he was shoving bamboo splinters under her nails. "I'm trying to clean this," He slapped her hand away as she brought it up to her swollen cheek. "Blondie really did a number on you, didn't she?"

Elena sighed and shifted on the bathroom counter. "Well, that's what you get when you practically threaten one of your best friends. And it turns out that they don't like that very much."

"I do it all the time, and look at me," Damon gestured to his body, his face glowing in the dim lighting above him, "Perfectly fine. Not one scratch on me."

Elena couldn't help but laugh, causing her nose to scrunch up in pain as the scratches on her face tightened up. "That's probably because you heal as soon as you get a cut," Elena said, then laughed even harder as she added, "And because you have no friends that you can actually annoy the hell out of."

"I still find ways, though. It's really not that hard. Just look at Alaric. I don't even think we qualify as friends, and I've probably irritated him to the point of suicide a couple of times." Damon smiled over at her, but Elena could have sworn that there was sorrow in the depths of his blue eyes.

Elena watched as Damon applied more ointment to a washcloth, bringing it up to her skin again. She flinched from the coldness. Or she could have flinched from the way his other hand unknowingly caressed her cheek.

"I'm your friend," she deadpanned, but it sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that more than anything.

"And do I annoy the hell out of you?" Damon didn't really care to hear her answer. Everything she said was practically bound to make him feel worse about himself. In plus, he basically already knew her answer.

Elena couldn't help but twiddle her thumbs, avoiding his penetrating gaze with everything she had. "I don't know yet. Maybe you do, maybe you don't."

"Well," he screwed the top back on the salve before setting it down on the counter, "Let me know when you find out. I'll be curious to hear your answer."

_Yeah, _Elena thought, _so will I. Because I honestly have no clue what my feelings are towards you right now._

Damon smirked down at her as she hoped off her spot on the granite counter top, and the action unnerved her. He really was too tempting for his own good, and the evidence of this came as a hard hit on her part.

"All better. You have been officially nursed back to health by Damon Salvatore," he smiled, the tops of his white teeth only visible. "You're welcome."

Taking a good step away from him and his body, Elena was able to think more clearly… only to find that she was at a complete loss for words. Things were confusing her now. When did Damon suddenly become the good one fighting for his brother's innocence? When did everything become so topsy-turvy?

"Why do you do it?"

Damon froze, tempted to play dumb and act like he hadn't heard her. But he just couldn't. It was almost like he was compelled to answer every question she directed her way. "Do what, Elena?"

She spoke quietly, still trying to put distance between his body and hers. "You know what I mean, Damon. Why do you take care of me? Why don't you kick me out of your house and go look for Stefan yourself?"

God, there were so many reasons he couldn't just kick her out of the house like she was some lost cause, or leave her to fend for herself. She _needed _him by her side because without him, she would most likely be dead. He would never have been able to live on without her, and he probably would have just killed himself, too. And that would be no help to Stefan. That would have been giving up on him, and he promised Elena he wouldn't ever do that. But there was also another reason he couldn't just do those things, and once again, it undeniably revolved around Elena. He couldn't do those things because he loved. He loved her so damn much that he wouldn't be able to think of doing those things.

And he almost wished that she knew those certain things. Maybe she did, and she was just denying what was practically being shoved in her face.

He still didn't know how to answer this though, so he just settled on, "Because I just can't, Elena."

Knowing not to pry any further than that, Elena just leisurely nodded her head, pretending to be fascinated by Damon's shoes. She knew without even trying that this wasn't the real reason. Damon was just afraid to tell her the real motivation behind keeping her safe.

But she wasn't going to say it aloud; if she said it for other people to hear, it would have made it more real- harder to ignore.

"What even brought that question on?" Damon asked as he trifled through one of his oak cabinets, searching for a clean towel. He desperately needed something to distract himself from her penetrating brown eyes. She looked like she was close to piecing everything together.

_And what would be the problem in that? _Damon thought to himself, _she already knows that you love her. Or maybe she forgot…_

Damon shook his head. How could someone forget when they got told that someone loved them? Well, Elena always had been good at blocking painful memories, and maybe this was no exception. Maybe he was just another reverie to be forever obstructed.

Elena watched as Damon came up with dark purple towel. "It was just something I've been wondering. I thought you would have a good reason this time. Apparently you don't seem to."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Damon wasn't quite sure whether she was trying to insult him or not. Her words made him feel somewhat like a nosy child who had gotten in trouble one too many times.

Elena shrugged. "Every time you save someone or do something nice for someone else, you always just say it was because you had to." Elena narrowed her eyes at him. "But I don't think that's very true. I think there are very good reasons why you do the things you do."

A muscle in Damon's jaw ticked, and he grinded in his teeth together. "And what would they be then, Elena, if you suddenly know so much about me?"

She smiled up at him, looking everything like the cat that had just eaten the canary. It almost scared him a little. She looked too much like Katherine in that moment.

"I just think you care too much to let anything bad happen to anyone in this town."

And Damon immediately felt bad for even thinking of comparing her to Katherine. Everything Elena said was somehow brought up with a love and tenderness that Katherine and never managed. She really was the exact opposite of the bitch.

He shifted uncomfortably, fingering the frayed seams of his bath towel. "Well, yeah," he mumbled. "If Stefan and I would have never showed up, then innocent people wouldn't be getting brutally murdered left and right."

Elena saw the unhinging guilt that layered up into his eyes. "I don't think of it that way. If you and Stefan hadn't come into town, Klaus would have been still searching for me. He would have killed me and everyone in this town." She stopped, looking at him directly. "You and Stefan _saved_ me by coming into this town, Damon. That's the only way I can look at this situation."

The bathroom suddenly felt too small to Damon. He knew that he had potentially saved Elena more times than he could even count, but to actually do it and then to have Elena say it out loud to him where two completely different things. He could practically feel himself glowing.

"Do you really think that?" He couldn't help but feel skeptical over that foreign concept. He had, after all, been hoping she would admit something like that for over a year now.

She nodded her head slowly. "I do."

Damon turned away from her, but he could still feel the small smile adorning his lips. "Good to know," he mumbled, and Elena knew he was a lot happier than he put on.

"Yeah, it is," Elena agreed, and then she said, "What's the towel for?"

Chucking the soft towel at her, Damon gave her an incredulous look. "What does it look like it's for? You're going to take a shower. You reek of drunk people… and Caroline," he pretended to mock shiver. "Gross."

"I smell fine, Damon," but she couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious.

Damon smiled at her. "You're telling that to the guy that can smell from miles away. Don't try to convince me otherwise."

"True," she pointed a finger at him, "But just because you have some freaky super-sense thing doesn't change the fact that you need to leave. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"Why?" he asked, and he almost had the nerve to tell her that there was no door to his bathroom. This house wasn't really meant for anyone else but him and his brother.

Elena raised her eyebrows at him. "Why? Why do you think, Damon?"

Oh. Right. Her taking a shower meant clothes would have to be shed. And he wasn't allowed to see her naked… no matter how much he wanted to.

Damon briefly remembered the time he had found Katherine in his shower. He was so sure that it had been Elena, and it didn't help his libido when the original doppelgänger herself had to go prancing around in front of him wearing nothing but golden brown skin.

He had seen Katherine, but all he _really_ saw was Elena. His eyes had been scarred for life, and he found himself liking it. How sick was that? All it did was remind himself of what he would never have.

Damon just thought it sucked that Elena wasn't into the whole 'you show me yours, I'll show you mine' kind of thing. By some weird turn of events, she had seen his meaningful tattoo on a not-so-innocent part of his body, and he didn't get anything in return?

He thought it was a little harsh and a tad bit awkward at the same time. Here he was, a 168 year old vampire, pinning after some eighteen year old girl like a horny teenager. He was practically a pedophile in the making.

"Right," Damon shook his head, trying to clear it of all bouncing thoughts. "Sorry. I guess I'll just- I'll just leave now."

Elena bit her lip. "Yeah, that would probably be…best."

Damon seemed to agree with her, and the room suddenly stunk of some strong kind of tension. He looked at her, licked his suddenly dry lips, and then turned on his heel, doing his best not to tear off his own clothes and join her like he so badly wanted to.

He hadn't shared his shower with a beautiful woman in _way _too long. No-one that mattered, anyway.

Elena watched as he strode out of the room and into his bedroom. There really was no bathroom door- just one big opening, and she wondered how she could have forgotten that significantly important piece of information. Somehow it managed to slip her mind as Damon tended to her wounds.

"Damon?" she called out as her feet shifted from side to side.

"Yes?" Damon answered back, and he sounded like he was near his bed, or maybe next to one of his windows.

"If you come in here for any reason at all, I will have to personally hurt you…" she trailed off, and then added, "by getting Bonnie to torture you." She wasn't quite sure, but she could have sworn that she heard Damon's responding chuckle.

"But what if you trip and fall… and then you can't get back up or something? I think it would be in my best interest to come and rescue you."

Elena hoped that he was joking, but she still couldn't hear anything from his tone to convince herself that he was.

She sighed. "I'll be fine, Damon. I think I can manage taking a shower without hurting myself. I'm a big girl."

All was silent for a minute, and Elena rolled her eyes, her fingers going to the straps of her dress. The only thing her clothes reminded her of right now was the horrible things she had said to Caroline at the bar. She hadn't meant to get so carried away. Sure, Caroline had been snooping through her personal life, and had been saying crazy, unrealistic things, but in no way did she deserve those harsh words said to her. And Elena didn't even many half of them. No, she was not going to have Damon personally deal with her, and yes, she did want to see her again. Infect, she wanted to see Caroline more than anything else in the world.

Because, even if the blonde did get carried away most times, she always had something to say. It usually was the wrong thing to say, but at least it was something. And all Elena could do was prance around and say bitchy things to her best friends.

Elena blew her hair out of her face and tried to keep her tears in check. It didn't seem to help though, and she wiped her nose on the back of her hand, sniffling quietly. She wanted to reprimand herself that she was just being a baby, but with Damon in the other room and probably listening to every move she made, she didn't have the courage to.

Wiping her eyes and severely smudging her make-up in the act, she pulled her dress off and neatly folded it, placing the red piece of fabric on the counter next to the ointment Damon had used on her. She placed her boots next to it and shook out her messy hair.

The handle to the shower was cold to the touch, and she quickly turned it on, rotating it until it was scalding hot and she was being smothered by the steam. The window in front of the countertop was clouded in fog, and she was grateful for that. She didn't want to see herself in all her misery.

From the only visible part in the mirror, she caught the reflection of Damon. He was lying down on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. Elena flushed and it was not from the heat in the bathroom. She was just glad he wasn't paying attention to what was playing out in front of him.

She really didn't feel like tempting him tonight of all nights. They had both been through enough crap.

Elena hastily moved away from the mirror, stripping the remainder of her undergarments off, and pulling the thick curtain back that was separating her from the warm water on the other side. She carefully stepped inside so she wouldn't fall and unintentionally cause Damon to rush to her aid, and then sighed almost immediately as the deliciously hot water ran down her back, wetting her hair and eyelashes. The muscles in her back and shoulders bunched up and then unknotted completely as she slid her hand over her shampoo she kept handy on the shelf to her right. She would have liked to stay away from the soap that Damon preferred.

As if she didn't get enough of his smell as it was…

Elena stayed in there until the water started to run cold and she heard the soft padding of boots on the floor. She switched off the water, carefully listening, and when she didn't hear anything else, she scowled and pulled the shower curtain back, her head the only visible part of her body peeking out.

She grunted at who was in front of her. Of course it was Damon. Who else was she expecting? Stefan?

"Was there something you wanted?" Elena said as sweetly as possible. "I'm feeling a draft."

Damon sat on the counter where, moments before, she had just been sitting herself. He looked serous as he stared down at his lap, and she couldn't help but feel like something was wrong.

"Damon?" She said softly. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Damon lifted his head, his blue eyes shining back over to her. "Caroline didn't call me," he said. "She never even tried."

Elena could have laughed if she wasn't feeling so exposed. "Is that what you look so serious for? Because Caroline didn't call you? What does that even mean?"

"What does that mean?" Damon scoffed. "Caroline didn't call me, Elena. I followed you to the bar tonight."

"Oh," Elena tried to feign not being surprised. But by the way Damon was looking at her, she didn't do it very well. "And why would you do that?"

Damon huffed out a heavy breath, throwing her the purple towel that she had laid on the toilet only moments before. She caught it with her suddenly cold hands.

"I heard something before you left with Caroline; I don't really think you're going to like it very much." Damon winced before he could stop himself. "I sure as hell didn't like it."

Elena took the towel and wrapped it around her body. "And why are you just telling me this now?"

Damon shrugged and let his hands dangle between his legs. "You just looked so sad from everything that happened earlier… and I just couldn't find myself telling you. I don't even know if it's true or not, so I didn't really think it mattered at the moment."

"So," Elena stepped lightly out of the tub, clenching her towel to her breast, "What is it? How bad can it possibly be?"

Damon pursed his lips, his eyebrows scrunching together and creating creases between them. "Well, I guess it depends on how you look at it. You could take this as really good news, but I _highly _doubt that. You might just run for the hills and never look back after this."

Rolling her eyes, Elena pushed her dripping hair back and behind her ears. "Okay, I don't think it's that bad. The only thing that would have me running and screaming is-"

"I think Stefan's back." Damon interrupted her, watching as her face dropped about ten decibels.

"Stefan?" She froze and she didn't even think that it sounded like it was her voice. It was like she was suddenly hearing everything through cotton. Her hands fell to her sides, and she swallowed, sucking in a breath. "And how do you know this?

Damon watched her carefully, tensing her reaction. It didn't look like she was handling it well at all. "Well, I guess I didn't really hear it from any one person- which is really just further proof that I am completely wrong, and am just freaking you out for no reason."

"Spit it out, Damon." Elena persisted, tapping her foot on the push carpet underneath it.

"There have been all these reports on the news this past week. And there are all these warnings of murderous animals, and what people should do at night just to keep safe, and how one family of ten people was ripped apart- ripped apart, Elena!" He slumped his head backwards, hitting it against the mirror. "I've been trying to convince myself that it really is some sort of animal, or maybe another vampire in town, but, in my heart, I really know what it is. And what it is is a complete and udder monster." Damon smiled even though he didn't find anything funny in this situation, "My own flesh and blood; my own _brother_."

Elena tried to swallow, but it came out more as a choke. Her throat felt like it was closing up, and she sensed that she was going into panic mood. What if Stefan came back to try and kill Damon again? Would she even be able to live with the guilt of that?

_What if he tries to kill me? _A small part of her mind said. _There would be nothing you could do about it. _

"If these things have been all over the news, then how come I never saw anything?" There was an unmistakable edge of hysteria in her voice that Damon didn't know if he could manage to calm down.

"Because I've been trying so damn hard to keep it from you. And it was working apparently." Damon slid off the counter and walked over to her. "Elena," he whispered, "Everything's going to fine, okay? For as much as we know, Stefan could be half way across the world right now. This really could be some sort of rabid animal."

Elena had enough feeling left in her body to snort. "And what are the odds of that being true? Honestly, Damon, in a town that has a pretty harsh track record of vampires, do you really think that all these people being massacred is the doing of some _animal_? Are we really that stupid?"

Damon took her by the shoulders, trying to smoother the tremors that were running through her slight frame. "I know this sounds bad, Elena. And I don't think we're being stupid; I think we're just being optimistic." He cocked an eyebrow. "Well, at least one of us is. But it's all we have right now. We can either just give in and assume the worse, or we can _fight_. I happen to think it's something we are very good at."

Elena wanted to tell Damon that they were good at something, but it definitely wasn't fighting. It was more like they were good at getting their asses kicked over and over again. She didn't say it; Damon would have strangled her then and there if she had.

"Wait, wait, wait," Elena interrupted, "So how does this tie in with you stalking me?"

"Not stalking you," Damon admonished, "I just wanted to make sure that you were safe if anything was to happen."

Elena squinted her eyes. "And a, 'Hey, Elena, I'm kind of worried about you going out with Caroline tonight what with my lunatic of a brother out on the rails and all, so do you mind if I join you tonight,' wouldn't have sufficed? I'm not that cruel of a person, Damon. You could have just asked."

Damon rubbed at his eyes. The stubborn girl in front of him was going to be the death of men everywhere. "You should really hear yourself right now, Elena." He sighed and took his hands off her wet skin, "I thought you would appreciate some time without your alcoholic bodyguard by your side. Excuse me if you suddenly want me to follow you everywhere."

Elena scoffed, raising her hands up, palm out and facing him. He tried not to notice how the life line etched into her skin was exceptionally short.

"Oh, trust me, I don't. I just think it's funny how you never seemed to ask me what I wanted before, and now you suddenly want to honor my wishes like it's the most important thing in the world," she shrugged. "And _excuse me _for thinking otherwise."

Damon knew there was going to be no arguing with her; she was as stubborn as he was, and there was nothing on this planet that would make her back down from the argument.

"So," Elena said, sounding calmer and more under control then she had before, "What do we do now?"

Damon looked at her body. "Go get some clothes on. You're dripping all over the floor."

"And what about after that? Are we not even going to talk about this anymore?" Elena knew that they both had a nasty habit of dropping a subject like a hot coal, and then never picking it back up again. "Even if the whole town could be in danger again?"

That seemed to get to Damon, because he ushered her out of the bathroom, showed her the pajamas he had put for her on his bed, and soundlessly said, "We'll talk about it in a little bit. Just get dressed."

And she did.

.

.

"Did you hear that?"

Damon shifted next to her, too far in sleep to understand what she was saying.

She could have sworn that there was something knocking on the door downstairs, but she pushed it off after a while, burying herself further into her pillow, and trying to let sleep overtake her once more. But the only way she could do that was by counting big, fluffy, and pink sheep.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_Knock._

_Four._

_Knock-knock._

Elena shot up in the bed. She knew that she hadn't imagined it this time. There _was _something or someone knocking on that damned door.

"Damon," she hissed, turning to him and roughly shaking his bare shoulder, "Damon, get up. There's someone at the door." He didn't move, and Elena lightly slapped him across the chest.

"Ouch," he exclaimed as his bright eyes popped open, but she knew that it hadn't really hurt him at all. "What the hell was that for? Some people actually _like _to sleep at night."

Elena tugged on his sweats, ignoring as he slapped her hand away. "There's something outside. Go check what it is."

Damon rubbed at his eyes. "Do you even know what time it is?" He groaned when Elena didn't respond, throwing the heavy blanket back over his body. "Go back to bed, 'Lena. There's nothing outside."

"Yes, there is," she chided.

Damon's voice came muffled from over the downy sheet and pillow blocking his mouth. "Then go see for yourself. It's not my job."

"Yes," Elena argued, "It _really _is. You're the man in this house- not me."

Damon groaned, noting how he had just started another fight after they had just finished one up a couple hours previous. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Even though he couldn't see her, Elena still rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter. Everyone knows that men take care of the problem when this type of thing happens."

"Nothing's happening right now except for a seriously annoying teenager infuriating a really old vampire. Not that it doesn't happen a lot, but let's just save this argument for the morning, 'kay?"

Elena huffed, mumbling 'jack-ass' into the air above her. Under normal circumstances, she would have gotten him up with her persistent begging, but she really was exhausted… so she just gave up.

Damon was silent next to her, probably sleeping again, and she tried to follow suit. Just as her eyes felt heavy enough, and she was on sheep number 156, she heard the sharp tapping noise again.

This time, both her and Damon shot up from their spot on the bed. Damon looked over at her with his mouth open wide.

"See," Elena jeered, "I told you that someone was out there. I'm not a complete idiot, Damon."

"Shhh," he hissed, "Just be quite for a sec."

Elena immediately shut up with a whispered, "sorry."

There was no more sound for a couple minutes, and Elena was almost convinced that she had completely gone insane, when she suddenly heard the imperative sound again.

"Damon-" she started, but he was already out of the bed, shrugging on a shirt that was on one of his dressers. She flung the covers off her in one fluid movement, placing her feet into her yellow slippers, and running down the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her.

Damon was already at the front door by the time she got down there, and Elena struggled to see over his shoulder as his broad structure swallowed up her view of who was on the other side of the door.

She had prepared to say something witty to Damon that he must have been getting old if his hearing was _that _bad, but she immediately stopped. He hadn't said anything yet, but she could tell by his body language that there was something extremely wrong.

"Damon?" She stood up on her tip-toes, trying to catch a glimpse of the stranger, "Who is it?"

She waited for what seemed like a millennium before Damon could even voice a response. And what he said made her wish that they had never even gotten out of bed in the first place.

"Stefan."

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.

_A/N: Dun dun duuuuun! Looks like Douche-Bag Stefan has some business to tend to. *looks at Damon and Elena* _

_I give all my love to Peri (you know who you are… hopefully) for helping me with this EXTREMLY hard chapter. Seriously, this had me wanting to throw in the towel and scream that I never wanted to write again…but I somehow managed it!_

_I hope you all liked the VD mid-season finale as much as I did… because I REALLY liked it. :D_

_Leave your reviews, pretty please, and maybe I'll have some Delena love go down next chapter…_


	11. Innocence Corrupted

_A/N: Wow. Officially ninety reviews. And here I thought that this would just be a one-shot… Silly me :)_

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_Mistaken Observations: Innocence Corrupted_

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"Hello, brother."

Elena recoiled at the sound of Stefan's voice that echoed into the cold night air. Only, it wasn't really his voice at all, and Elena quickly hoped that maybe Damon had made some sort of mistake. Surly it couldn't have been Stefan knocking at their door in the very middle of the night, sounding every bit like a tarnished soul that was in the fiery care of the devil. That voice, the epitome of an emotionally dead man, was the sound of someone who had been corrupted of their innocent youth, and had been robbed of the only thing that kept them truly sane. And Stefan certainly didn't sound well-balanced in that instant. But maybe he liked it that way. Why wouldn't he like it if Klaus was the person who told him he _had _to?

"_Klaus is just as lonely as the next person. He doesn't have any family, and he probably felt obligated to ruin my brother in the perfect staged moment. But one thing I really don't get is why he puts all that misery on himself. The bastard killed his own family, for God's sake. All he has to do is rip the stakes out of the poor suckers, and then ba-boom… they magically come back to life, and he can give my sorry ass of a sibling back."_

If Elena hadn't felt like the whole world was suddenly swallowing her up in its mighty mouth, she might have given away an anxious laugh. A couple of weeks ago, Damon had made it his duty to tell her his theory on why Klaus had brutally taken Stefan away from them.

At first, he just gave her simple answers: "_Because he's a dick,_" and then he went into further detail: "_Because he's a dick _and _because he doesn't know what to do with all the rage and guilt building up inside of him. So, he probably thought, 'Hey, why not put the youngest Salvatore on a complete binder, and watch as he mutilates hundreds of innocent people?'"_

Elena had never blamed Damon once for what he had told her. She mostly didn't because he was completely right. Klaus _was _lonely (not that it had given him an excuse to take Stefan) and severely emancipated people had a tendency to go a little bonkers after a long period of time. She also couldn't blame Damon because he was a smidge more than drunk at the time.

That's all they ever really did anymore. They talked about their pain, got drunk to deal with that newly brought up agony, and then slept it off for a good twenty-four hours. And then they repeated that action a couple days later.

It was sad, really.

In front of Elena's searching eyes and fidgety muscles, Damon stood rigid. The only thing that was able to convince her that he was still alive was the fact that she could see his breath in the winter air, and that the tendons in his neck looked strained. It seemed like he was scared to death of the image that was being projected in front of him.

Terrified that this maybe was real, and not just a dream like she so desperately wanted it to be, Elena buried her head into Damon's shoulder blade. Maybe if Stefan wasn't aware of her existence, he would leave the house as quickly as he had showed up. She soon realized that there was no such luck.

All was silent for moment, maybe a little too silent, and even from behind Damon, she could see that Stefan had craned his neck so he was looking right at her.

"Well, hello there, Elena."

Elena felt bile rise in the back of her throat, and by some force unknown, she managed to hold back the scream that frantically wanted to rip free from her airway. That _thing _was not Stefan. That monstrosity had the same colored eyes as Stefan, but they were dead, and crazy, and frantically looking over her body like she was something to play with, and then to be consumed from the inside out. That Stefan-impersonator was rid of all his conservative clothes that Elena had gotten so used to see him wearing. In their place were torn, bloody, and filthy pieces of cloth that somehow looked like they were just getting in the way. The worst part of his demur seemed to be his hair. It was tousled like it had been ravaged by a girl that was desperately trying to fight for her life.

Elena knew that the girl hadn't won with her pitiful attempts. They never did, according to the news.

Elena never thought that she would have ever seen her boyfriend like he was some sort of sick abomination. But who was she kidding? Stefan wasn't her boyfriend anymore, just like Damon didn't see his brother before him. All Stefan seemed to be was a cold, calculated _murderer. _There was nothing else she could convince herself of besides that.

Stefan gave off a wicked grin, pulling his head back until he was once again obstructed by Damon's body.

"I guess your little girlfriend over there is afraid of me. I wonder why that is." Stefan's mocking and sinister tone reminded Elena greatly of what Damon used to sound like before he had changed.

Noticeably, Elena blanched at Stefan's choice of words. _Girlfriend? _Did he really believe that she had been going around with Damon while he was gone? What kind of girl did he take her for? He should have known that she was still hoping there was some redeemable part of him left in there, and that if there was, she was going to try and forgive him.

But it wasn't possible at this point. That part of Stefan was just gone.

"I don't know what you mean, _brother,_" Damon spat out the word like it was something vulgar and disgusting, and Elena snapped out of her revelations.

She still couldn't see his face, but she imagined that Stefan had given Damon a knowing look when he said, "Sure you don't. Of course you would have no idea what the word 'girlfriend' even means."

Damon gave off something that closely resembled a growl. It caused Elena to a shiver and grit her teeth, but all Stefan did was give off a hideous laugh.

"She doesn't seem that strong now, does she?" Stefan nodded towards her. "There she is- your little savoir- and all she's doing right now is hiding behind you like some sort of coward. She's not the big, bad warrior you thought her out to be. "

Clenching her teeth, Elena moved away from behind Damon, standing beside him, and moving her hand until it was hovering near his. She wasn't going to pretend that she wasn't scared, because she was- desperately so- but she wasn't going to let Stefan have the satisfaction of knowing that he was causing this scene of terror. He didn't deserve it; he didn't deserve anything anymore.

It was one thing to look at Elena like she was something to be _used_, but it was a completely different thing to call her a coward. She was anything but, and she had worked hard for people to see her like she was as strong as anybody ever had been.

Damon seemed to relax as Elena stood beside him, and she reveled in the fact that she had such an influence on his attitude towards things. She remembered that there was a time when she hated that she could do those things to him, but now she was comforted by the fact.

In a steely voice, Damon squinted his eyes, cocking his head to the side, and giving Stefan a questioning look. "Was there something you wanted, or did you just come by to try and kill me again?"

Stefan put a hand on his torn scrap of a shirt, placing it near his cold, un-beating heart. "You wound me, Damon. Why would I, your own brother, try to murder you in cold blood? We both know that I can't do that even if I wanted to."

Damon crossed his arms, shifting his weight. "And why is that? It didn't seem to stop you before."

Elena wanted to close her eyes and curl into a ball at Stefan's answering smile. It made her skin crawl, and a thin line of perspiration lined her forehead despite the iciness in the air.

"Because Klaus still has plans for you. Surly you haven't forgotten that already."

Elena felt her calm façade slip from her face. Her fingers curled towards her side, her breath hitching in her throat as she struggled to swallow. She stonily swiveled her head towards Damon. His face remained impassive, like Stefan hadn't even said anything in the first place, and it briefly looked like he had lowered his eyes in defeat.

Petrified, Elena looked towards the door, her _ex-_lover lounging in the frame like it was the most ordinary thing to do.

She felt her world tilt to the side, and her stomach heaved as her heart jumped into her throat.

"Now," Stefan clapped his hands, stepping forward, "Who's going to invite me in?"

.

.

"What are we going to do?" Elena ran a nervous hand through her hair, pacing in front of a window, the moon highlighting her features to its best advantage.

Here, in Damon's room, they had both decided that letting Stefan into the house had been one grave mistake. Sure, he could have walked through the door without an invitation (this _was _still partly his house,) but Elena was sure that he just wanted to add to the unfolding drama by asking Damon if he could enter. Who knew _the _Stefan Salvatore would be so theatric? It must have been the added flair of Klaus coming in to play.

"This was never supposed to happen," Elena harshly half-whispered into the thin air. Stefan could still hear them, even if they were safely tucked away in another room, she was sure of it, but that wasn't going to stop her from venting her frustrations. "He was supposed to stay out of town, and leave us the hell alone."

Those words were also something that she never imagined herself saying. But, her world had been turned upside down in a matter of seconds, so whatever she said almost always came out as the opposite.

"I know," Damon replied, dazedly sitting on his bed.

Elena scoffed. "Is that really all you can say at a time like this? That _you know_?" She threw up her hands, feeling her mental exhaustion set deep inside her body. "You don't know, Damon. Klaus still wants to use you to fulfill his sick plan of turning you into a hy-"

"Don't say it," Damon snapped back at her, cutting into her rant. "If you say it, you're just going to make everything worse."

Elena closed her mouth, biting her lip until she tasted something metallic on her tongue. This wasn't the time for them to be fighting like petulant children, but it was almost like she couldn't help it. Damon was acting as if he didn't care what Klaus had in store for him.

But, she did. And she wasn't going to let it happen.

"Then what are we going to do about that _thing_ down there?" She sneered, hoping that Stefan had gotten that loud and clear.

"What do you want me to do?"

A silence hovered in the air as she fought for an answer. She wanted Damon to find out a way to fix Stefan, but she knew that was too far-fetched to even contemplate. Instead, she settled on something more reasonable. "I just want him out of this house; I want to go to bed and know that, in the morning, I'm not going to have to deal with all this bull-shit."

Blue eyes stared back at her, and they looked like they were agreeing with her whole-heartedly. "And how do you want me to go about it? Just tell him to get the hell out? You know I can't do that."

Elena started to pace again, moving away from the window. She lowered her voice, hoping Stefan was too pre-occupied with something else to take notice of what she was saying. "I don't care what you have to do. Lie to him, tell him that you'll do whatever Klaus wants if he just gives you two weeks to prepare."

"And what if I do?" Damon asked perplexedly, wondering what master plan she could have possible thought of for their ordeal.

Elena looked at him. He was just sitting there, hands between legs, face fallen. He couldn't be the one to give up so soon, but that was exactly what he was doing.

She cleared her throat. "Then we'll run. We'll get out of this town, and put as much distance as we can between us and this town."

Damon cringed; he knew she was going to say something like that. "Running won't work- it never does. Eventually, he'll catch up with us and make our death one-hundred percent more painful that he originally planned." He did have to admire her willingness to ever give up, though. Stefan was wrong. She wasn't a coward; she was a force to be reckoned with. She had all the plans and actions that she wanted to try out, and all he could do was sit back and try to figure out how his life had turned into a bad sitcom.

At least she was trying to keep them both alive. He didn't think he could anymore.

"I told you before, Damon," she growled over at him, "I don't care. Klaus can hunt us down to his heart's content, but I'm not going to give him what he wants so easily. We're better than that."

"No," Damon intervened, "_You're _better than that. I'm tired of going after people, and then turning back and running away." He gave her an exceptionally sad look. "That's what I've done my whole life, Elena. I just don't think I can do it anymore."

Elena stopped moving, her hand kneading the skin around her temple. "You said you'd never leave me again. If I want to go, then you have to follow me. That's how it words between us."

"Who says?" And he sounded like he actually had some fire behind the words. "Why do I have to chase after you? It will be like Katherine all over again."

She tried not to let the words bother her, but she still felt the dull ache in her chest to signal that she still cared very much about what he thought of her. "Then don't chase me. You don't even have to follow me. You can just be by my side. We can both fight for something we deserve- to live our life without something trying to kill us every ten seconds."

Damon wanted so badly just to agree with her plan, but he couldn't help but think of the consequences it entailed. Damon knew that if she would have sat down, she would have realized how idiotic her plan seemed, and how it wasn't going to work in the end.

He didn't have the power in him to tell her that they were going to end up dead anyway. To him, there was no point in fighting for something that was already gone.

Elena slumped to the floor in front of him while images burned behind his eyes. He saw it all. He saw Elena dead beside him, her limbs twisted at un-natural angles, and her beautiful brown eyes open and staring at nothing. Her chest didn't heave with air, and he couldn't hear her fluttering heartbeat, or the hot blood pumping through her veins. And he could see Klaus looming over him as he stared at the broken child to his left. He welcomed the stake in the hybrids hands, because it meant death. Nothing mattered to him if Elena wasn't experiencing it all by his side, and he couldn't wait for it all just to be done. And then Klaus brought the stake back, and plunged it into his chest, and he never felt happier because, this way, he didn't have to worry anymore. He didn't have to feel threatened when another vampire made its way into town, and he didn't have to feel guilty when a Mystic Falls Samaritan got tangled unwillingly into the supernatural… and he didn't have to feel like ripping his hair out when Elena said that she only _cared _for him.

Caring was overrated. He was virtually done with it.

Damon coughed as he noticed the various emotions running across Elena's face. He could tell that she had just seen everything play out in his eyes.

Elena spoke in a broken tone. "So that's just it, then? You don't even want to fight anymore? You want to watch me die?"

"No," Damon jumped to his feet, but then he sat down again, not sure what he was going to do anyway. "Klaus won't kill you. You're too valuable, and he needs you for your blood. Death would do nothing but curse him into being forever lonely."

She gave him a disgusted look. "Do you even know what you're saying right now? What Klaus would do to me would be worse than death. He would use me, and rip the blood from me whenever he needs it. And what happens when he's done with me? All he's going to do is throw me away like some useless doll. Can you look me in the eyes and honestly say that is what you want?"

Damon couldn't help but see the logic behind her reasoning's. What was he even thinking? Leaving Elena to fend for herself in the clutches of Klaus would have been the worse act he could ever commit.

Damon shook his head, tendrils of his black hair falling onto his face. "No, I can't. But I don't know what else to do. My brother is down there, probably listening to everything we're saying, and waiting for us to take notes on everything his lying mouth has to say."

"Damon," Elena started, getting up from her spot on the floor and standing before him. "If you care about me, you're going to fight for this. This isn't something we can just brush under the bed and let go. It's now or never. We either run to save our lives, or we go up to Klaus and let him have his way with us. Which is it?"

"Elena-" Damon groaned.

"Answer the question, Damon. If you don't, then I'm just going to walk downstairs and order Stefan to take me to Klaus. Might as well make it short, right?"

He hoped that she could see the horror in his eyes, and that it made her feel better, because there was no way he was going to let her waltz down there alone. Stefan was capable of a lot of things as it was, but if you added Ripper-Douche to the list, it just brought up more complications. And after witnessing Stefan calling her a coward, Damon could confidently say that there was no part of Stefan that cared for Elena in anyway.

She tapped her foot, her eyes flicking to Damon's door. When he didn't say anything for a while, she felt her resolve waver. Did she really have the courage to go down there and demand that Stefan take her to Klaus? She would have liked if Damon was convinced by it, but she wasn't too personally committed.

"Damon?" She squeaked. "You're not going to make me go down there, are you?"

Nervously, Damon licked his lips, and then after another moment of silence, he shook his head. "No, I wouldn't be able to do that. But we are both going to go down there. We're going to listen to Stefan, lie to him, and then get the hell out of this place… if that's what you really want."

Elena almost felt her knees buckle from the overwhelming sense of relief that Damon wasn't going to give up on her. And after a while, the fear settled into her stomach. They were actually going to do it. They were going to lie through their teeth, and try to escape like so many others had before them. She just hoped that they had a little bit more luck than the first couple un-lucky vampires.

"I thought you were going to make me go down there," she let out a nervous chuckle.

Damon didn't smile back at her. He looked like he was thinking of something very carefully. "Were you actually going to?"

"Yes, but only to prove a point. I can't have people thinking that I don't have a strong backbone."

Damon didn't know whether he wanted to strangle her, or beg her until she finally just gave in and kissed him. "No, we definitely wouldn't want that," he muttered, speculating how she always turned their serious conversations into something humorous.

Elena held out her slender hand to him. "Ready to go get ourselves in a heap of trouble?"

Damon blew out a breath. _Elena Gilbert and Damon Salvatore- partners in crime. _He thought it had a nice ring to it. He took her hand, pulling himself to his full height. With the best fake smile he could give, he gestured towards his door. "More than I'll ever be."

It was good enough for her.

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"Well, there you two are. I was starting to get worried. Did you forget about me so soon?"

Stefan's contemptuous voice billowed into Elena's ears as she sat down next to Damon. Stefan didn't sound worried at all, and it made her wonder what he was really thinking. She figured that it had something to do with getting Damon to follow Klaus' illogical orders.

Damon barked out a snarky response, keeping his jaw clenched. "And how could we ever forget you, dear brother? It's not like you haven't been off on a world-wide killing spree with your _master, _or anything."

Elena put a cautious hand on Damon's arm. The last thing she needed right now was to see the two brothers get in a fight to end all fights. Her and Damon needed to stick with the plan, or else they were all doomed.

When Elena straightened back out, and both her hands were neatly folded in her lap, she saw Stefan's face flash to hers. He gave her a shrewd look. It seemed to her that he was saying, "_I was right to be concerned about you and Damon. The second I leave town, you can't keep your hands off each other." _Elena shifted in her seat. Everything she had been trying to deny about her and Damon was quickly rushing to the surface.

She almost started to feel guilty, but when Stefan's mouth curled up into a repugnant smile, she felt the sensation completely vanish. She wasn't doing anything _wrong_; she was just trying to stay alive. And in order to stay alive, she needed Damon by her side.

She kept her gaze on her trembling hand, and then quickly closed them into fists. She wasn't going to show weakness. "Let's just jump right into this, shall we?" She didn't wait for an answer as she glared at Stefan. "What are you doing here and what do you want?"

"I can't visit my own brother and girlfriend without you thinking there is some secret motive behind it?" Stefan lounged back into the leather couch, placing his hands behind his head.

"No," Damon cut it, "You can't. So either tell us what you're doing here, or get out."

Stefan pouted. "Fine, if you want to do this the easy way, then we will. I will be more than happy to suck all the fun out of it."

Elena and Damon both nodded simultaneously, but Damon looked a little more bitter.

"Klaus has a proposition for you, Damon." Stefan pointed a finger in his direction, wagging it gently like a callous parent. "And I think we both know what happens when Klaus doesn't get what he wants."

Damon tried to hold his irritation it, but it proved difficult. "And what exactly would that proposition be?" He knew exactly what Klaus wanted from him, but he decided to play dumb. It would buy him time, after all.

Stefan chuckled, causing Elena's finger nails to cut into her palm. The sound of him laughing set her on edge like it never had before.

"Oh, come one, Damon. Let's not play idiot of the day here," Stefan drawled. "You remember that little game of fight 'till the death we had a while back?" He watched as Damon stiffened, keeping his mouth shut. "Of course you do. That's not something you could easily forget unfortunately. And let's not let the detail of why Klaus made you do those things fade away."

"We get it, Stefan," Elena scowled, tired of the game that he was playing, "Klaus wants to turn Damon into a hybrid. What we really want to know is why he thinks he can get away with it. Why Damon? And why right now?"

Stefan lifted his shoulders in an act of saying he really didn't know or care. "Because Klaus wants what he wants. You can't control what a selfish vampire will do in order to get that done." He sent a glance over to Damon, and then smiled. "Damon would know all about that, wouldn't you, Damon? After all, you're the most selfish vampire I know."

Elena turned her head to look at the vampire in question. He kept his own eyes on Stefan. "What is he talking about, Damon?"

Damon bit the inside of his cheek, waited a moment to make sure he could actually talk, and then he raised his eyebrows. "I have absolutely no idea."

Stefan tsked. "Sure you do, brother. The only reason you're keeping Elena around is because you love her. You don't care what she feels. All you care about is what you want. If that's not a selfish vampire, then I don't know what is."

Elena, feeling hot around the collar, tugged at her ratty tank-top. Stefan was going into unbridled territory, and she tensed at the sensation. If she wanted to talk about all that _love _stuff, she would go talk about it if and when she wanted to and only with Damon. The one thing she couldn't stand in a person was them assuming they knew someone else's emotions. Stefan didn't know what Damon was thinking, or how he felt about her. Stefan didn't even own his mind anymore, so who was he to tell Damon off like that?

"Damon is the least selfish person I know." Both males in the room stared at her, and it took Elena a moment to realize that she was the one that said it. She cleared her throat, jutting her chin out in her yeah-I-said-it expression. "If you really want to see someone selfish, then you can just go crawling back to Klaus. I think he'll be more than happy to tell you just what it means to be egotistical."

A momentary mask of surprise spread over Stefan's face, but he quickly composed himself with another slow building smile. "Well, don't you have some fire stored up in that tight, little body of yours. Damon's a lucky man." He leaned in closer to Elena. "Has he fucked you yet?"

Something snapped inside of Elena, and this time it was Damon that had to hold her back. But that still didn't stop her from running her mouth in her blind haste. "You fucking bastard!" She shrieked, struggling to get away from Damon's strong hold on her arms. "You loved me! Don't act like this means nothing, because it means everything! I waited for you every night, hoping that you would come back and just be okay. But that was wasted, wasn't it? You care for nothing but yourself, and the number of girls you can slaughter in one night." She had to stop, catching her breath and finally managing to sit still. Damon let her arms go, and as soon as he did, she did something both disgusting and childish. She spit on Stefan, putting every ounce of frustration and hatred behind it. "I hate you, and I hope I never have to see your face again after this. All the love I thought I had for you is gone."

The silence was deafening as Elena sucked in a breath, and her guilt was almost an impediment. Why did she say those things? She had just been so mad and there was no way she could have kept it in anymore. Why would Stefan say all those crude things about her body, and accuse her of sleeping with Damon? Why was he acting as if he never even loved her?

Damon had never acted that bad. Maybe she had been wrong all along. Maybe Stefan was never right for her, and maybe this was the _real _him. Maybe she had been blinded by something false all along.

Elena momentarily felt something warm on her cheeks, and before she could reach out her hand to feel what it was, she realized her eyes were swimming with tears. She had wanted to stay strong and fight her emotions like she had so many times before, but her body was emotionally and physically exhausted, and she knew that it was no use.

"Mmm, interesting," she heard Stefan say.

Elena only sighed this time, not able to quake up enough rage to scream at anyone anymore. "What?" She snapped at him.

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how ironic it is that you're exactly like Katherine."

Disgusted, Elena left the room.

.

.

Damon found her an hour later, lying face down on his bed sheets. Her hair was spread out around her, and her ankles were crossed in a lazy state. He couldn't tell if she was asleep, so he didn't say anything.

When Stefan had said all those horrible things about her, Damon had wanted to do nothing but torture his brother until he was crying his own blood. But he knew he couldn't, because Stefan had information that he desperately needed to know. And after forty-five minutes of back and forth banter between the two of them, he finally had his answers.

Yes, Klaus was coming to turn him into a furry, blood-thirsty mess. No, there was nothing he or Elena could do about it. Yes, if they tried to run, they would be hunted down and flayed alive, and no, Klaus did not want him just for his own personal amusement. There was a reason, but Stefan wouldn't say anymore on the topic.

He had left before Damon could ask any more questions. Where he had actually gone, Damon didn't know. He had probably gone running back to Klaus like the sucker he was- which unfortunately meant that Elena was now going to want to run. And they had about two weeks to do it.

"_Klaus will come by in two weeks and make sure that you haven't run and that you are still alive. You are no fool, brother. I know you won't flee from your problems," Stefan said. _

"_And what if I do run? What can you possibly do to stop me?" Damon tried to keep his cocky smirk plastered on his face, but he felt it wavering. _

_Stefan shrugged. "If you run, then you run. There isn't anything I can do about that. But mind you that you won't be able to run forever, and the more you run, the more I chase."_

"_And what about Elena? If we both run, what are you going to do with her if Klaus catches us?" Damon was afraid of the answer, and all that followed it. If the answer was something horrible or involved Elena getting hurt, then the deal was off. He wasn't going to run if her life was on the line. _

_A slow, cruel smile radiated onto Stefan's face, and Damon felt his stomach roll. "Then Klaus will use her until she is no longer needed. And then she will die."_

_Damon cringed, and there was a small part of him that just wanted to beg at his brother's feet. He couldn't do this; he couldn't risk anymore of Elena's well-being. "And how will she die?" It was a horribly revolting thing for him to ask, and a part of him really just needed to know… for closure reasons only. _

"_You will be compelled to kill her. What else did you think would happen?"_

_Damon thought that he had never wanted to throw up so much in his entire life. _

Damon sighed, looking at Elena on his bed, and shaking himself from his ghastly conversation with Stefan. Running would entail that her life would be over… and by his hand. She would never grow old, have a beautiful family with mini Gilberts running around, and she would never be happy.

She would just be _gone._

As Damon ran a wearied hand over his eyes, he saw Elena shift from her position. She wasn't sleeping, he realized.

"You okay?" She asked.

Barking out a harsh laugh, Damon sat down next to her and took her smooth foot in his hands. He traced around the delicate ankle bone. "Never better. What about you?"

Part of her mouth quirked up in a useless smile, and he could see the water bordering her lower eyelashes. "Just peachy. Why wouldn't I be okay if someone basically just called me an evil, conniving bitch? It happens to me all the time," she stopped to punch Damon's pillow. "What did Stefan say when I left?"

He was conflicted. On one hand, he wanted to tell her so bad that it physically hurt him. If he told her, then maybe she wouldn't want to go on a wild goose chase. But if he didn't tell her, then she _was _going to go on a wild goose chase, and she would wind up dead.

He was about to tell her everything, but somehow the words got stuck back in his throat, and all he ended up muttering was, "Nothing. He didn't say anything except that Klaus is coming in two weeks."

She nodded, and there was a very faraway look in her eyes. "Oh," she whispered. "And what happens then?"

Damon swallowed. "It doesn't matter, Elena. Nothing bad is going to happen to us."

"Right," Elena snorted, "Because it works every time we try to convince ourselves of that. Stefan was right. We're all just going to end up massacred." She jerked her leg away from Damon's grasp. "But he was wrong about one thing."

"And what is that?" Damon moved away from the bed, stripping his black shirt off that had just been put on earlier that night.

Coughing, Elena felt her face flush, her breathing getting oddly heavy. "I'm not like Katherine at all," she swallowed as she watched the muscles in Damon's back ripple, "I'm worse."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Damon quirked an eyebrow, giving off an awfully sexy stretch. "Last time I checked, you made sure that you and Katherine were nothing alike in any way besides your looks. What changed your mind?"

_You are, _Elena thought. _You and your body, and your flirty glances, and the way you smell, and stretch, and the way you smile. All of that is getting to me, Damon. I'm about to give in, and do whatever I want with you. And that is why I'm everything like Katherine. I can't resist, just like she couldn't. _

"Elena?" Damon waved a hand in front of her face, and then recoiled when he saw the look in her eyes. Her pupils were dilated, her face flushed, and her pink tongue peeked out to lick her dry lips. She looked, to his extreme amazement, like a sex deprived fanatic.

And as soon as her lusty look appeared, it vanished, and she looked as miserable as she had before.

"Damon, I have to tell you something."

He was hesitant to answer, and still a little shaken up from her wanton expression, but he quickly responded. "Okay, what is it?"

A million thoughts ran through her head all at once- things like: this is the biggest mistake of my life, and what is he going to think of me when this is over, and what is going to happen when I tell him all of this?

She took a deep breath in.

"I have to tell you about something Caroline said. It was her plan."

.

.

_A/N: I was originally supposed to finish and post this chapter last night, but I went to go see Breaking Dawn (sorry Vampire Diaries.) Is it wrong if I really like both Twilight and Vampire Diaries? Hope not, otherwise I'm screwed. _

_Hope this chapter didn't put you to sleep, and make sure to review!_


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